Free My Soul
by Tempestt
Summary: 12 Months after the destruction of Earth, Bulma travels to Namek with the hope of resurrecting her world, but someone from her past has already beaten her there. Can Bulma convince Vegeta to use his wishes for good or will he squander them selfishly?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.

A/N: Sequel to Free My Heart. You really need to read it first to understand this story.

Although I feel that Free My Heart is better as a stand alone, it was kind of a dick ending. This story is going to have a lot more supernatural undertones and tons of angst. Also there will be action (that is to say, movement) since they are no longer imprisoned. If it seems like emotionally the story is moving fast, it's because they have already spent so much quality time together just talking. They may have spent a year apart, but they are going to pick up emotionally almost immediately where they left off.

Also be sure to check out another B/V story I will be posting later this week. _Fixation_ is a psychological thriller, crime drama and a romance. All my favorites in one!

_Twelve months after the destruction of Earth._

Free My Soul

Bulma lifted her face to the limeade sky as the warm Namekian breeze ruffled her newly pixie cut hair. It had been a year since she felt solid terra firma of any kind beneath her feet. She hadn't realized until now how disconnected she had felt, floating in space on a hunk of metal. She and the rest of the human survivors had been living on the remains of Frieza's ship, working tirelessly to repair what they could and salvaging what they couldn't. The entire time, they stayed in orbit around the shattered graveyard of Earth, perpetually mourning everything they had lost.

Goku had stayed by her side for a time while they grieved. They worked together to rebuild the ship using her technical savvy and his immense strength. With little else to talk about, he told her of the battle that transpired on Earth. Delayed on Snake Way Goku arrived too late to save his friends and family, something which weighed heavily on his usually light heart. One by one he fought Frieza's men in long painstaking battles. Many times Goku had been beaten down, but every time he rose back up, stronger than ever. Finally it was just Goku and Frieza, everyone else was either dead or rioting in mutiny, destroying the ship before fleeing.

Goku confessed to her the despair he felt facing Frieza, the tyrant who killed everyone he cared for. He told her of the thrill of battle racing through his veins, along with the certainty he would win, the absoluteness there could be no other outcome. The knowledge it was his destiny to put an end of such a terrible evil. His confidence burst through his skin in a golden glow, giving him the power to defeat Frieza.

In that moment just before the end, Goku saw the heart of darkness, the true face of evil. He had just seconds to escape Earth using the power of his mind to transport himself to the ship, before Frieza self-destructed, choosing to kill himself and destroy Earth rather than face defeat.

For six months, he stayed to help her, before suddenly announcing that he could feel the pulse of evil in the universe, encroaching upon them. With only a few words of assurance he left her achingly alone with only the other survivors for support.

A few months after that her situation on the ship become untenable, dangerous even. She rubbed her fingers over her suddenly dry mouth, ignoring how her hand shook. She took one of the escape pods, directing it to Namek. On this tiny green planet was the solution to all her woes. The Namekian Dragon Balls were powerful enough to wish Earth back into creation. With a single turn of phrase she could resurrect the entire human civilization. She could put everything back the way it was, before Frieza—before Vegeta.

Bulma took out her newly created Dragon Ball locator, programming it to narrow her search parameter. For the last year she had been able to work on other side projects besides making Frieza's ship inhabitable. The locator was one of them, but thankfully some things she didn't have to recreate. When she originally was captured she had been wearing her utility belt with her capsule kit containing her essentials like a house, hover bike and a recently added assembly of weapons. A quick search of the dungeon where she had been stripped revealed storage holding prisoner's possessions, including her belt.

Bulma stood at inside the shaded entrance to a deep cave where she secreted her new home while on Namek. She was dressed for adventure in an Army green sleeveless tee and multi-pocketed kakis for all her survival odds and ends, and a pair of sturdy hiking boots. On her hips she strapped on a pair of laser guided pistols. Before Frieza's arrival she hadn't used a gun since before she met Goku on her first search for the Dragon Balls, but now she was alone again, on an alien world which could be overrun with any amount of dangers. As she looked out across the flat bluish plain with only a smattering of toothpick trees, trepidation struck. The path stretching out before her looked immense and empty. She was the last hope for human-kind, but she was only a woman. She had brains and wit, but that wouldn't protect her from a monster looking for lunch.

Swallowing hard she threw down her capsule, closing her eyes against the puff of smoke. She swung her leg over the hover bike, adjusting the locator on the handlebars so she could read the grid easily. She shot one last glance over her shoulder, into the cave, before she tightened her mouth in grim determination. She kick-started the bike, heading out across the desolate plain with only a tiny dot to guide her.

Some hours later she arrived at her destination. She stopped the bike, taking the time to reexamine her coordinates. Frowning she looked ahead, realizing she was on a ridge, and the Dragon Ball was in the valley below her. She swung off the bike, taking her locator with her. As she neared the lip she heard frightened shouts, and instinct bade her to drop down on her belly to avoid being seen. She crawled the rest of the way, her crystal eyes widening at the scene below her.

The first thing she saw was Vegeta. Her entire being seemed wired to him somehow, singling him out in the crowd below was instinct. He was so handsome. Every memory, every fantasy she had of him came rushing back. Heat cascaded through her body, flushing her skin. Her gut cramped up and her breath froze in her chest. She curled her fingers in the loose dirt, her eyes glued to him. She scanned down his length, taking in his navy armor overlaid with a pearl breastplate, gloves and boots. Over his shoulder hung a bright crimson cape that cascade down the length of his body in long folds. He looked so different dressed in clothing. Almost like a stranger. He stood impassively, his arms crossed, his face set in a sever frown. Next to him stood a woman in similar, but less striking armor, and in her arms she held a large golden ball.

Bulma gasped at the sight. Vegeta had come for the Dragon Balls just as she. But why would he? His worst enemy Frieza was dead. What was he doing here? Who were these people he was with? What had he been doing for the last year? The woman next to him leaned closer so she could whisper in his ear. His body remained unflinching, his face unwavering as she spoke. Bulma crept closer, getting a better look at her. She was beautiful, taller than Bulma with a sleek warrior's figure and long blonde hair captured in a tail that whipped down her back. Her bright green eyes glittered in the sunlight and her perfect pink lips twisted cruelly. Bulma's hand curled, and dirt dug its way beneath her nails.

Her chest ached as if it was being viciously squeezed, and Bulma had to tear her eyes away to take in the rest of the scene. Various men and boys with the same green skin and antennas as Piccolo were lined out in front of their squat white houses. They looked afraid as they huddled together, the young children pushed to the back. More soldiers of obviously lesser rank milled around. It was clear Vegeta was their leader by the way they kept casting him glances.

"Tell us where to find the rest of the Dragon Balls and your lives will be spared." The woman spoke, and Bulma was surprised at how musical her voice was. Its lilting tone didn't carry the sharp edge Bulma would have expected. It was a voice for seduction. A voice a woman used to getting a man to do her bidding. Bulma glanced again at Vegeta, her eyes tearing under the hot sun. At her demand, the Namekians shifted closer together, but the woman merely smiled, and deep-down Bulma knew she was looking forward to carrying out her threats.

Bulma glanced around the valley, noticing that while there were a few injured Namekians there were no dead bodies or other signs of carnage. When there was no answer, one of the soldiers shot forward, dropping one of the men to his knees with a sharp blow to the stomach. Fright rippled through the villagers, but they remained rebelliously closed-mouthed.

"What say you, M'lord?" the woman asked, a sly smile curling her beautiful lips as she glanced at Vegeta.

"Set the houses on fire and toss them in one by one until someone talks," Vegeta ordered in a voice so cold it chilled Bulma to the bone. Gasping she rolled away, putting distance between them. On her back she covered her face with her hands, shading her eyes from the sun. Behind her she could hear shouts, and the crackling of fire. The acrid taint of smoke reached her, gagging her throat. She couldn't block any of it out, and when she removed her hands she saw the green sky through watery eyes.

Sickened, she couldn't process any more. She had to get away as quickly as she could. She didn't know this Vegeta. The person below her was a stranger. He wasn't the man who had made such passionate love to her while imprisoned together. He wasn't the hero who carried her to safety on his back, refusing to let her fall. He wasn't even the man who reassured her in the dark when she had been so afraid their first night together. The man in the valley was a monster. He was the monster who came to her world intent on murdering her friends, and destroying her way of life for his own goals. He was a monster looking for immortality.

Vegeta felt something familiar flicker on the ridge above him. He glanced up, his hawk-like eyes scanning the rocks looking for anything amiss. Seeing nothing, he returned his attention to the task at hand, but the flicker remained in the back of his mind, aching like an old battle wound. He watched as his men lit up the houses, the hungry orange flames licking the sky. His arms tightened over his chest as he glared murderously at the villagers, trying to frighten them into talking until he had to make due on his threat.

Sometime in the last year he had lost his taste for killing. Oh, he could still murder with the best of them. He beat Frieza's army into submission with his fists and the death of a few bad apples was necessary, but for the first time the murder of innocents left a bad taste in his mouth, and no amount of ale could wash it out.

One of his men grabbed a small boy, and a vein in Vegeta's forehead ticked. Grimly, he watched the reactions of the villagers. Seeing one man look away, his face etched in horror and fear, Vegeta motioned for the soldier to stop.

"You." Vegeta pointed to the man, walking up to him as a physical threat. "Where can I find the next Dragon Ball?"

The man swallowed hard, his eyes downcast. Vegeta grabbed him by the throat, pulling the taller man down to his level. "Tell me," he prodded, his voice cold. The man struggled to breathe as Vegeta's hard eyes bore into him.

"Guru, our elder to the east. He has a Dragon Ball."

Some of his peers hissed at him, but Vegeta didn't care. He nodded at the soldier to free the boy, turning on his heel to leave. Always aware, he noticed the derision on some of his soldier's faces as they left the Namekians unharmed. They were under new rule now. Vegeta's rule. They would obey him or die. Most of his men were murderous bastards, trained to kill by Frieza, but others appreciated Vegeta's new law of no unnecessary bloodshed. They were still terrifying, but they weren't complete bastards, either, and somehow that gave them a new sense of pride they had long been missing.

Vegeta walked away, his mind already dismissing the men behind him and focusing on the obscure flicker of energy rapidly moving away from him.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

Thank you so much for all your kind reviews!

Free My Soul

Chapter Two

Bulma stared at her reflection in the water. She stood at the lake's edge, beneath an old, wide-branched tree as purple blossoms rained down on her. It was unlike the other stick-thin trees of Namek, and she suspected it had something to do with the magical Dragon Ball she found nestled in its roots.

Her image was watery, blurred by the tears in her sapphire eyes. She couldn't believe Vegeta was a monster. She had always known. She had seen him when he first came to Earth. The pleasure he took in the destruction of their army and the deaths of her friends. He was evil and she knew it then, but she allowed him to cast a black voodoo spell on her soul while they lay imprisoned together. The soft whispered words he murmured against her skin weren't endearments, they were binding runes. He entrapped her with his possessive touch and bronze body. His overwhelming heat ensorcelled her, taking away her memories of who and what he was so he could do with her as he pleased. So he could kiss her, touch her, worship every inch of her.

She sighed as longing shuddered through her treacherous body. Dear God, how she missed him. His heat, his touch, the burning fire in his black eyes. Even the gruff no-nonsense way he spoke to her. She missed it all, craved it so badly she ached with it. She thought she had suppressed her need for him this last year. She told herself over and over it was just circumstance, a single meaningless moment in a long lifetime. But she never forgot him. She closed herself off, drowned herself in work, turned her thoughts away from him, but she never ever forgot. Forgetting Vegeta was impossible. He was a force entirely to his own and he refused to be turned into a distant, but fond memory. He demanded to be at the forefront of her mind at all times, even when she wanted nothing more than to say goodbye.

"You cut your hair."

Bulma gasped, nearly stumbling into the lake. She whipped around, her hands curling around the butts of the guns slung low on her hips. Vegeta stood behind her, his hand outstretched as if he was going to wind her short tresses around his fingers. At her look of shocked horror, his face became shuttered, and he dropped his hand away. Bulma could only stare at him, surprised to see him so close to her. For a split second she thought she had conjured him out of thin air by her memories of him, but the wind kicked up, and beneath the floral scent of the tree she could smell his singular, enticingly male odor.

Her gaze flickered behind him, looking for the woman who seemed never to be far behind, but he was alone. The only thing she saw was her hover bike, and the path of displaced dirt the air vents left behind. She damned herself for leaving such an obvious trail. She looked back at him, soaking in how handsome he looked in his regal armor and crimson cape. His hands were gloved, his chest protected by a thick white breastplate. He was entirely covered except for his face and the bronze glint of skin at the hollow of his throat. She didn't like this new civilized Vegeta in front of her. She preferred the naked man who shared a prison cell with her.

When she didn't respond right away, his full lips turned down at the corners. She expected to see fire flare in his dark eyes, but she saw only emptiness. She touched a distracted hand to her short hair, the longest strands coming to her chin and flaring out in all directions. She cut her hair because it was more manageable then a long tail that kept getting pulled. She tucked a strand behind her ear, suddenly panicked. She hoped to God he couldn't see the secret hidden in her eyes.

"It's easier to manage this way. Its hard putting together a nearly uninhabitable ship while your hair keeps getting caught on every little thing."

She dropped her eyes as she spoke, stepping away from him. She glanced at the water, seeing her pale reflection. The Dragon Ball was safely tucked away in an encapsulated storage container. There was no way Vegeta would be able to find it.

"You were able to fix it though? There should have been more than enough food for you and your people until it was space worthy. You were safe."

His last sentence was a statement, sounding like something he had been trying to convince himself of for a long time. Bulma heard the question in them, and she glanced up at him from beneath veiled lashes. She thought about the danger she had been in the last few weeks on the ship. The derision she had engendered from her fellow humans. If she hadn't escaped when she had she might not be here today.

"Sure, safe," she agreed, barely keeping the sarcasm from her voice.

His face tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. She watched his body give away the subtle clues to his emotions with a sort of sick fascination. Maybe it was because she was so used to looking at his naked skin for the answer to her questions, but she could read him better than other people she imagined. He was showing concern for her wellbeing. She couldn't imagine why. He left her after all.

"Where are the others?" He glanced around, looking for signs that she wasn't alone. That she was protected. His eyes eventually drifted down to her hands which were still wrapped around the handles of her weapons. One black brow winged, as he glanced back up to her face.

"Afraid?"

Something painful and raw shivered down her spine. Was she afraid of Vegeta? Should she be? He was a monster who only a few hours ago ordered the slaughter of an entire village. She was right to keep her hands on her weapons. Wasn't she?

She had no answer for his second question, so she concentrated on the first.

"It's just me."

For the tiniest second fury rippled across Vegeta's features, and unconsciously Bulma's hands tightened on her weapons. She wanted to take another step away, but she was afraid of drawing any more of his wrath. His face smoothed out, but she could see distant fire in his eyes, and she exhaled in relief. At least now his eyes weren't dead. They were terrifying when they were empty and cold.

"What do you mean you are alone? Where is the ship? Where is that useless fuck, Kakarott?"

Bulma knew where this conversation was headed, and she needed to steer him off topic as soon as possible. The last thing she wanted him to do was ask her why she was there.

"The ship isn't operational, and Goku took off some months ago to chase after some sort of evil entity in the universe. I can only assume he meant you," she muttered the last beneath her breath, but by the narrowed look he cast at her, he heard. She felt heat on her cheeks, and she brushed a nervous hand across her brow to distract herself from her embarrassment. She hadn't meant to sound so cruel, but she was angry with him. Angry at him for leaving her. Angry at him for what he did earlier that day. Angry at him for shattering her fragile perceptions of him being a good guy. "I'm looking for him now. What are you doing here, Vegeta?" She lifted her chin, and looked him straight in the eye, showing him she didn't regret her comment. Speak the truth her mother always said.

Vegeta's eyes sharpened, and too late she remembered that he wasn't a stupid man. He wasn't easily distracted like some of the others she knew. He glided closer to her, trapping her at the water's edge with the efficiency of a predator. She glanced around, looking for escape, but there was none.

"Same reason you are here I suppose, looking for the Dragon Balls." He stared down into her eyes, keeping her paralyzed while he plucked a purple petal from her teal hair. She wanted to ask him why he wanted the Dragon Balls, but she was trapped by his overwhelming presence. "I'm very disappointed in you, Bulma. You are out here alone and unprotected. Do you know what kind of monsters there are in the universe?"

Bulma gulped, knowing she was looking at one such monster right now. He must have seen the truth of her thoughts in his eyes because his face darkened with shadows.

"I would never hurt you," he swore softly, leaning closer to her. The sincerity in his tone strummed a tender cord deep inside of her from which rippled out a fierce, terrible anger. Fury so intense it threatened to choke her.

"You left me! Without word or reason. You just turned your back on me!" she exploded furiously, pushing against his breastplate. He rocked back, but didn't move. Sorrow suffocated her when she felt the smooth, cool metal beneath her hands instead of warm skin. "How could you do that to me, Vegeta?" she asked softly, suddenly as sad as she had been angry. Vegeta frowned down at her, his gloved hand encircling her wrist to keep her near.

"I left you with your friend. I left you with your people. Everyone who wanted to hurt you were either dead or gone. You were safer there than you ever could be with me," he defended through tight lips. Bulma turned her face away, her silky hair sliding against her jaw and hiding her eyes. She didn't want to see him this way, fully clothed and lying. This was not the man she had fallen in love with a year ago.

"You care nothing of my safety, Vegeta. You never did. I was just a convenient fuck for you, and we both know it."

His fingers tightened around her delicate wrist painfully. He pulled her in closer to him, but she kept her face averted, unable to bring herself to look at the man she had been longing for.

"Sacrificing my pride for you was never convenient, Bulma." His words were soft. She would hazard to say they were almost a tender whisper, if it wasn't for the underlining hardness threading through them.

"Why?" she breathed in response. She couldn't stop the hot slide of a single tear down her cheek. She could only hope that Vegeta didn't see it.

"Why, what?" he asked cautiously, leaning back, while refusing to let her go.

She closed her eyes against the wave of pain. She wanted to scream at him. Why had he slept with her, sacrificed his pride as he claimed, if he just intended to leave her behind once freed? Why didn't he care for her just a little bit? Was he incapable? Or was she just weaker than him?

"Why did you leave me?" She finally responded, too chicken-shit to ask her real questions.

"I had to." Again, no explanation, just cold, clipped words. Fury welled up inside her, turning the taste in her mouth bitter.

"And now look at you, dressed so properly, with you crimson cape of kingship. What are you now? A Lord? Do you rule the entire universe?" she sneered scathingly up at him, her eyes roving maliciously over his outfit. She tried to yank her arm away, but he pulled her closer, forcing her to look up at him. His face was shuttered with anger, but she didn't feel any fear. She kept her other hand clenched around the top of his breastplate--holding him close while simultaneously trying to get away. She slid her fingers beneath the metal, but she still couldn't feel the heat of his body.

"Not the entire universe." His eyes were dark with hidden knowledge, and Bulma was hard pressed not to ask the questions biting at the tip of her tongue. He wanted a fight, then he was going to get one.

"Should I get down on bended knee, and worship you like the tyrant you are?" she hissed furiously, her blue eyes spitting fire at him. His gloved hands slid up her arms, capturing her beneath her elbows. He pulled her up to her toes, looking her straight in the eye so there could be no mistaking his response.

"Never. You will bow to no one for as long as I live," his voice was rough with passion, his eyes intense. Some of the ice around her heart melted at his vow, and she felt her body soften in his grasp. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Not just words of anger, but soft intimate things. She had secrets bubbling on her lips, begging to be told, but she no longer saw a friend in front of her. She saw a stranger.

"Was it worth it?" Was being Lord worth leaving her behind? Abandoning what they had together.

His dark eyes slid away from hers, focusing at the flutter of her pulse at the hollow of her throat. Undecipherable silence stretched on between them. Bulma didn't know if he refused to answer because he didn't want to hurt her feelings or because he felt regret for his actions.

She slid her hands up his chest, framing the thick column of his neck between her fingertips. She gasped at the icy coldness of his skin. He had always been so warm to the touch, like a bronze statue in the sun, but now it felt like he was carved from a block of ice.

"Vegeta, are you ill?" She pressed her small palm across his brow, concern pinching her face when all she felt the chillness of his skin.

He pulled her hands away, not answering either of her questions. They way he averted his dark eyes made worry burst through her chest. She opened her mouth, ready to insist he tell her everything, but instead he tugged her into him, dipping his head to brush his lips across hers. Warmth spread through her. Briefly, she thought there should be some awkwardness. A kiss from him should be bitter, but it was as if the last year never happened. He touched his lips to hers, and she forgot everything.

Suddenly he pulled back, leaving her bereft somewhere deep inside. Darkness seeped into the cracks of her heart as he tilted his face towards the sky, his dark eyes searching the clouds.

"What is it, Vegeta?"

"Company," he growled, ice cold anger wafting off him, snuffing the tiny flames in his eyes. He shoved her away, ignoring her gasp. "Leave, Bulma. You must get off this planet. Go back to your people. Go where it's safe."

Loss hollowed a place in her heart as he pushed her away from him. With every cold, clipped word from his mouth she felt the warmth inside her from his mere presence dissipate.

"I still have business here, Vegeta," she replied dispassionately, her eyes skittering away to watch the golden sun dance on the pale green water.

Vegeta moved quicker than she could breathe. He clamped his fingers around her upper arm in a punishing grip that made her wince.

"Leave," he commanded, and Bulma could hear the authority in his words all the way down in her toes.

Her eyes narrowed and her chin lifted haughtily. "I am not the type of woman who can be ordered around, Vegeta. I'm not your subject. I'm not _your _anything. So why don't you go terrorize someone else."

His lips twisted cruelly and his black eyes become impossibly hard. "Don't be stupid. It's not safe here."

"I am not stupid," she ground out, yanking her arm away from his grip. She knew she was going to have bruises in the morning, and the knowledge made her even more furious. "There isn't a safe place in the universe, Vegeta. There's nothing like having your home blown up to underscore that fact."

Vegeta didn't reply, and Bulma wished once again he was naked. If she could just see the dance of muscles across his chest she would know what he was thinking.

"You must stay hidden, but if you ever need me you can find me here." He thrust an electronic pad at her about the size of a PDA with coordinates. "I will give orders to my men that you are not to be harmed if they come across you, but Bulma we aren't the only ones here. Be careful, and stay out of sight."

Before she could answer or ask any questions, he leapt into the air, streaking across the sky like a comet. She shook herself out of her daze, asking herself what had just happened. She allowed him to enchant her again. He did something to her that made her forget what a monster he was. She tucked the pad away, promising herself she wouldn't make such a mistake again.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

Free My Soul

Chapter Three

Vegeta hit the ground in long, smooth strides. Small clouds of dust rose beneath his heels as he strode confidently up to the pair waiting for him. Lyedra was a powerful warrior, as beautiful as she was deadly. Her popularity with the soldiers had less to do with her feminine good looks which she wasn't above using if the situation warranted, and more to do with her command to detail. She was efficient, meticulous, and was the obvious candidate to be Vegeta's Second-In-Command. She didn't have the same level of strategic capability as Vegeta, but it could be easily learned. She was battle clever, but wasn't too intelligent, something that detracted from her overall appeal. Intelligence he found was a very attractive trait. More importantly, Vegeta didn't trust her. He didn't trust anyone, but he most especially didn't trust her. She had the most to gain should he fall from his new found seat of power. So naturally, he kept her at his right hand.

Beside her, stood a new found enemy. As Frieza's brother and responsible for the western quadrant of space, Vegeta never had much dealings with Cooler. He did know he was the more powerful of the brothers, and he flouted his strength by never decreasing his power below his third form. Rumor had it, that Cooler had a total of five transformations; something Vegeta had a hard time comprehending. Frieza had been the most powerful entity in his life for so long, that dealing with so much strength made Vegeta's head ache right behind his eyes.

Since his rise to power he had little contact with the Cold family other than a few formal niceties. Vegeta hadn't needed to inform them of Frieza's death since his uniform was linked to their main database. While they had been in mourning, Vegeta moved quickly, firmly wrestling what was left of Frieza's army under his control. Once Vegeta so efficiently completed his task, there was nothing left for King Cold to do but to confirm his position. Though King Cold and his son Cooler neither trusted nor liked Vegeta they did acknowledge his was the most powerful and capable warrior to take Frieza's place. Cold and Cooler were already spread thin and couldn't absorb Frieza's empire into their own. While the Cold's were physically more powerful than Vegeta, and could easily murder him where he stood, they had no one to take his place and Frieza's soldiers would run roughshod without a leader. The situation each man found themselves in was distasteful, but deserving of compromise. Vegeta earned the right to rule the eastern quadrant of space, and in return he had to bow and scrape to a pair of lizard masters.

"Cooler," he greeted coldly as he came to a stop in front of him.

"Vegeta." Cooler nodded in return. Lyedra glanced between the two, before taking a step away. She neither positioned herself closer to Vegeta or Cooler, choosing to take no side during the conversation. Vegeta noted her neutral stance, placing another check mark on his mental tally of her faults.

"Why have you come?" Vegeta asked, seeing no point in social niceties.

"Does one need a reason to visit an old friend?" Cooler asked grandly, his thin lips stretched wide.

"We aren't friends," Vegeta replied in a clipped, hard tone, his black eyes assessing.

Cooler's lips pulled down at the corners in a mocking frown, but Vegeta could still see the smile glinting in his eyes. "Dear me. Surely I didn't mean to imply you, Vegeta. How thoughtless of me. Poor friendless child that you are."

Vegeta's crossed arms tightened over his chest. Though Cooler wasn't as effeminate as his late brother, he was just as cruel. He enjoyed belittling those around him, by implying they were younger, smaller and less powerful than him. His favorite target over the years had been his little brother Frieza. After a visit from Cooler, Frieza would be in a rage for days, even weeks. Vegeta never had much contact with Cooler during those visits, but he could now appreciate the reason for Frieza's fury. The reptile was a total prick.

Vegeta glanced to the side, noticing Lyedra had edged slightly closer to him in an effort to avoid being indicated as Cooler's mysterious friend. Vegeta knew there was no such person. The empire was curious as to why he was spending so much time on a worthless no account planet, so obviously Cooler had been sent to check up on him. However, there was no way Vegeta was going to tell the lizard why he was there, so playing along seemed to be the best course of action.

"What friend?"

Cooler shrugged nonchalantly, his sleek white and purple body rippling. "Too many to count." He was looking out across the flat savannah, but as he spoke his cold eyes connected with Vegeta's and a sly smile slipped across his lips. Vegeta's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his agile mind listing all those in his command who would more than willingly volunteer information to Cooler. No one knew their true purpose on Namek, not even Lyedra. The magic of the Dragon Balls was a mystery, but it wouldn't take Cooler long to unravel it. Vegeta was close to obtaining his goal. He was only missing two balls. Hopefully, he would be making his wish to the all-powerful dragon before Cooler even realized what happened.

"So really, just people you intimidate into talking to you." Vegeta was appalled by his own words before they even finished leaving his mouth. Both Lyedra and Cooler whipped their heads around to look at him oddly. As well they should. Intimidation was how things got done in the universe. The strong always applied pressure on the weak. Hell, it was one of the first lessons his father, King Vegeta had ever taught him. Intimidation was what he used earlier today to get the dragon ball. And it was exactly why his stomach had knotted up as he watched the houses burn.

"Are you feeling well, Milord?" Lyedra asked him softly. Vegeta glanced at her, seeing the worry in her eyes. It wasn't the same level of concern Bulma had shown only moments ago when she thought he was ill. That had been genuine. As brilliant as she was, Bulma was no liar. She could never hide her true feelings behind false pretenses. She was just too open and honest. Lyedra on the other hand had an agenda. He just wasn't sure what it was yet.

Vegeta ignored her, training his steady gaze on Cooler instead. He saw sick curiosity on Cooler's face, and Vegeta knew from past experience with Frieze that the expression was dangerous. He schooled his features to be blander than normal, curling his upper lip up in derision as he spoke.

"Do whatever you are here to do, Cooler. Just stay out of my way." Warning issued, Vegeta spun on his heel and he stormed up the ramp into his ship. He blindly followed the main corridor ringing the outer edge of his circular ship, his rampaging thoughts disarticulated and jumbled. Cooler was going to present a problem for him. It was only a matter of time before he found out about the Dragon Balls and their magical properties. Vegeta needed to obtain the last two balls as quickly as possible.

As important as all that was, the Dragon Balls were not at the forefront of his mind. Bulma was. She was there on Namek. He never thought he would see her again. He should have never even thought of her, but he had. He couldn't stop thinking of her. After leaving her behind, he slept for hours, ate all the food he could ever need, filled his days with battle and conquering and his nights with strategy. But through it all, Bulma was a niggling thought in the back of his mind.

At times when he was alone, and it grew too quiet he would glance around the room searching for her, worry tight in his chest because it was never quiet when Bulma was in a room. But she was never there, and the silence would drown him with its weight.

Sometimes while listening to reports from his men, his mind would wander, returning to her again and again. The color of her hair, the feel of her skin, the soft little sounds she would make when he touched her. Never in his life had the memory of a woman haunted him like she had.

Now she was here, within reach, easily accessible, deliciously warm. He stood close enough to her to inhale her sunshine scent, to see into the depths of her blue eyes, to feel her heat. The tenuous control he had over his thoughts the last year broke, leaving him free to remember every little detail of his time with Bulma, and even more distractedly, to fantasize about everything he could do to her while they were here together. Everything he could do to her without his collar.

He came to a standstill beside a thick plate glass window that looked out across the flat Namekian landscape. He didn't see the bluish grass or the thin trees. All he saw was the look of fear on Bulma's face when she realized he was behind her at the water's edge. The look of panic in her eyes as she clutched her weapons. Not since the first time they meet, before he reassured her that he wouldn't force himself on her, had she ever shown him fear. Why today had she looked at him so? Anger he would have expected. Maybe even passion, but never fear.

"Milord?" Lyedra's musical voice cut into Vegeta's thoughts with the alacrity of a sharp knife. His spine stiffened at her approach, but he refused to turn around and show weakness. His keeping his back to her was a subtle reminder that although she held the illustrious position of his Second, she was still far below him in power.

Instead of taking the hint, Lyedra boldly stepped up beside him, intimately trailing the tips of her long fingernails down his spine between his shoulder blades. It took every ounce of control he had not to twitch away from her. Coolly, he glanced at her from beneath his long lashes, waiting with the imperiousness of a prince for her to explain herself. She stood close to him, the sunshine through the window making her long, blonde hair shine brightly.

"Cooler is going to be a problem for us." Her musical voice tried to wrap its way around him, but he was impervious to its affects. He cocked a dark brow at her, wordlessly telling her that she wasn't presenting information he didn't already know.

"Us?" Vegeta commented harshly while looking out across the plain.

"Yes, us, Milord." She braced her hands on the sill as she looked out the window with him. Her beautiful face was set in a thoughtful expression that showed signs of feline intelligence.

"There didn't seem to be an "us" earlier." Vegeta crossed his arms, and turned his body so he could stare her down. Since she wasn't taking the subtle hint maybe she needed a more direct clue to leave him alone.

"Don't be sensitive. If I present myself as separate from you it increases the chance that Cooler will come to me to ask his questions, and I will be able to distract him from the truth." She straightened, turning to face him so they stood together in a shaft of light.

"What truth? You don't know anything either." Vegeta's dark eyes were harder than obsidian as he glared up at her. Her long legs and the metal soles of her boots made her a few inches taller than him, something that annoyed him to no end.

"I'm not just a pretty face Milord. I know these balls you've been collecting are important. Very important. It wasn't all that hard to figure out what they do." With a toss of her chin, the long tail of her hair settled over one shoulder so she could twine her fingers through the silky strands. She cocked a knee settling her weight against the thin metal sill of the window until their heights were equal. Vegeta's eyes narrowed at her tactic.

"What do you mean?" he growled, low and dangerous.

"Well they just aren't simply treasure. Even if they are materially valuable, it would be nothing compared to your wealth, and hardly worth the time and resources you're expending here. This means they must have some sort of function. The only thing that's important to you, that you would spend this amount of time on, is power. So it only follows that somehow these balls grant that."

He advanced on her, pinning her against the flat window, warmed by the sun. "You better be very careful what you say next," he warned. She allowed herself to be pressed back, sinking even lower so she had to look up at him submissively.

She reached out, brushing her fingers down his chest, her green eyes gleaming. "All I'm saying is that very soon you are going to be very powerful. King Cold and Cooler will have no chance against you, and that's an awful lot of territory for one man to control all by himself. You are going to need someone by your side. Someone you can depend on. Someone who will take care of your every need." Her words were seductively soft, insinuating that she could make every dirty thought he ever had into a reality.

She flattened her palm on his chest and slid it up to cup the back of his neck. With a gentle, but insistent tug she pulled him down, her pink lips curling a bit at the corners before she pressed a kiss against his closed mouth. She writhed against him with expertness of a courtesan, applying every trick she knew to get him to respond.

She was right of course. The Dragon Balls were going to grant him an incredible amount of power, making him undefeatable in battle. He had every intention of destroying the Colds and taking over their territory. It was exactly what his father would have wanted him to do. To rule as a Saiyan over all he could survey. Ruling three quadrants of space, hundreds of planets and dozens of star systems, would be overwhelming. He would need a partner. Someone by his side he could trust. Someone who would cling to his power, because they were too weak to defeat him. Loyal as long as the riches kept pouring in.

Lyedra was the perfect candidate to be his partner in all things. She would make a ruthless queen. She would help him to rule with an iron fist, and seduce those who couldn't be swayed by violence. More importantly she wanted the job. Would kill for it if she had too. She was made for it.

Bulma on the other hand, would simply turn her back on him if asked. She would never tie herself to a tyrant, regardless of the power and wealth it would bring. She had a moral standard that was far above him. She would take one look at his bloody hands and scream in horror. And if he forced her--if he made her stay with him as his queen, his wife, his whore, she would die on the inside. She would cease to be everything that he desired, and become nothing more than a living piece of meat.

Lyedra's entire body pressed against him, but all he felt was vast coldness in his soul. She didn't ignite fire inside him like Bulma did. She stirred nothing within him, not even desire. He pushed her away, noting her flushed face and how her lips parted with need. She didn't truly want him. It was his power that made her wet between the legs--all the things he could give her, if she could just get him under her spell.

Vegeta stared at her for a long while, searching for something in her green eyes. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he didn't find it. She was just as empty on the inside as he was. Wordlessly, he turned on his heel, leaving Lyedra to stand in the sunshine with only anger to keep her company.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: I've got bad news and good news. The bad news is the Fall semester has started, and I'm a busy little bee with school, work and family, which means story updates are at the bottom of my to do list. But at least they make the list, unlike returning that call to my mother-in-law. The good news is that I'm taking a Sci-Fi literary class (totally fell into that one on accident) and a creative writing class. So cross your fingers. Maybe I'll learn something and improve!

Free My Soul

Chapter Four

Bulma surveyed the valley below her from a rocky outcropping. A large, silver, disc-like space craft was nestled on the flat plain, three sides protected by cliffs. She smiled as she watched the soldiers guarding the only entrance to the craft. She wouldn't necessarily say that Vegeta was paranoid, but he was an expert at protecting himself.

A vision of Vegeta dressed in his regal armor and his hard, domineering expression rose up in Bulma's mind, wiping the gentle smile from her lips. After Vegeta's visit she had been breathless and weak in the knees. His very presence drove all logical thought out of her mind, making her forget her goal for being on Namek, and she couldn't allow that. She had an epic reason for being here. It wasn't to get laid or whisper secrets in a lover's ear. It wasn't even to get closure over the rotten way he treated her. She was here to save her people. The entire human race was relying on her to keep her knees bolted together and a brain in her head. She needed to remember that, and not allow Vegeta to cast his black Voodoo spell on her.

After he left her in the dust yet again, she checked her dragon radar, and came to the dreadful conclusion that Vegeta had all the Dragon Balls except for two. The one she had in her possession and another that was half way across the world. She had no doubt that Vegeta would be gaining possession of that one very soon. If she was going to complete her task then she needed Vegeta's help. She needed him to give up something that was important to him for her. She needed him to sacrifice his wish for her.

_Yah, right. And plants could talk._

She took a deep breath, girding herself as she picked her way down a narrow path. She had no idea how she was going to convince Vegeta her wish was more worthy than his. Maybe if he was still the naked, vulnerable man she met a year ago, not this fully clothed lord who looked down at her imperiously. This man destroyed entire civilizations and wouldn't think twice about her devastated world. He more than likely would gruffly tell her that shit happens and to get over it.

If only there was more than one wish available, but if these balls followed the same pattern as the ones from Earth, then there was no chance of that. Perhaps she could convince him to wait a year, when the balls recharged for him to make his wish. And maybe Oolong really could fly.

As she approached the entrance to the craft, her attention snapped fully to the two soldiers flanking the ramp. Dressed in white and blue, their faces were expressionless except for their dark murderous eyes. They didn't bother to address her, making her feel like a bug about to be squashed. Goose bumps rippled up her back and she hoped to God that Vegeta had kept his word to order his men not to kill her. It was approaching dusk, and when she and Vegeta last spoke it had been mid-morning. Plenty of time for him to issue the no kill order, as long as he hadn't forgotten.

"I'm Bulma Briefs, here to see Vegeta." Her eyes widened as she realized her mistake immediately. "Err, Lord Vegeta," she amended.

They didn't respond, just stared at her silently.

"Prince Vegeta?" She tried again in a small voice.

The sound of steel on steel dragged Bulma's attention to the top of the ramp. Vegeta's beautiful blonde companion stood at the mouth of the craft, her vibrant green eyes assessing. Bitterness immediately flooded through Bulma turning the taste in her mouth ashy. Unconsciously, she stood straighter, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin. Next to the gorgeous woman Bulma felt drab and shapeless, especially after everything she had been through in the last year.

The woman's cool expression didn't change, but Bulma could see amused condescension glitter behind her eyes. Bulma's self-confidence plummeted even further, and self-loathing followed closely on its heels. Bulma was a beautiful woman. On Earth she had no rival. She wouldn't allow this whore think she was better than the brilliant and beautiful Bulma Briefs. Angry, Bulma smiled, knowing it was one of her greatest weapons. The weary lines around her eyes disappeared, and her pale faced brightened. Her mother used to tell her, that when she smiled it was like the sun cresting the horizon. Bright, beautiful, and powerful.

The corners of the woman's perfect pink lips flattened and Bulma felt a vindictive spike of victory through her chest.

"Vegeta is expecting me."

No title, no pomp, just Vegeta's name, slow, deliberate and possessively intimate. Bulma watched as the woman's eyes darkened with something dangerous. With a flash of insight Bulma knew she could never turn her back on this woman. She wanted Vegeta for herself, and Bulma had just put herself squarely between them.

Without a word, the woman turned on her heel to disappear into the ship. Undaunted, Bulma scurried up the ramp to follow all but daring the guards to stop her. They remained motionless and Bulma passed by, quickly falling in step beside the woman. Bulma Briefs would not follow behind like some scared, wretched little slave.

They walked without speaking, the only sounds were the sharp click of the woman's steel-soled boots on the metal floor. They followed a curving hallway, until eventually the woman turned sharply inward. A door hissed open, revealing a sparse room with a gray oval conference table and a smattering of uncomfortable looking chairs.

"Lord Vegeta is an extremely busy man."

_Too busy for you_ were left unspoken, but Bulma heard the insult loud and clear.

"We'll see about that." She sauntered into the room, dipping her hips as she walked. She settled herself against the table, crossing her ankles as she smiled at the woman with a slow, confident stretch of her lips that used to have men hopping to do her bidding.

The blonde's eyes narrowed and Bulma knew she hit a nerve. The door closed, and she could hear the receding gunshot footsteps as the woman supposedly went to tell Vegeta she was there. Bulma wasn't stupid and she wasn't going to waste her time waiting for nothing.

She quickly located a control panel, and hacked into the onboard computer. A year of piecing together Frieza's flag ship made her an expert at Ice-Jinn technology. Within seconds she was able to down load a copy of the ships layout into the palm pilot Vegeta had given her, including the location of his private quarters.

Bulma laughed out loud when she found the door locked. Obviously the idiot woman had no idea who she was dealing with. Bulma overrode the locks and carefully glanced out into the hall. Seeing no one she darted down the corridor. She followed the directions to Vegeta's room, her heart racing a few times when she passed some soldiers, but they didn't even glance twice at her. Apparently if she had been allowed on the ship then the consensus was that she must belong there. It was surprisingly lax for Vegeta, and she made a mental note to mention it to him.

She made it to Vegeta's room without incident. Standing outside his door, she glanced around to make sure she was alone before connecting her PDA to the electronic lock. A few seconds later she was entering the room quietly, half-expecting Vegeta to step out of the shadows behind her. The room was fairly large considering the small size of the ship, and was dominated by a simple platform bed dressed with a thick, black comforter. It was the only warm thing in the room. The floor and walls were a cold steel gray without any artwork or rugs of any kind. There was a round metal table by the door with a gold bowl full of round purple fruit that could be called decoration, but it was more than likely just food for a hungry Saiyan.

At the sight of the bed, tingling heat slid down from her belly and in between her thighs. She quickly looked away from the bed, cradling her suddenly flaming hot cheeks between her cool palms. She didn't know what was more embarrassing. That she was immediately turned on by the thought of Vegeta naked in the bed or that she wanted to strip her clothes off, and root around in the sheets like a dog in heat.

As she turned away, she noticed a partially closed door that immediately peaked her curiosity. Nervously she glanced around, still expecting to run into Vegeta. There was a firmly closed door on the other side of the room, taunting her with its secrets. Cocking her head to listen closely she heard only silence. She crossed to the door, cringing as her footsteps clicked loudly on the steel floor. Balancing in her tip toes, she peered through the crack into the next room.

The huge metal desk tipped her off that the room was used as a study, but it didn't look like much work was done there. The blue gray walls were naked and there were no books or papers scattered about. That was of no consequence since five of the seven dragon balls were sitting bold as you please on the cold metal floor, looking as pretty as bright gold suns in a dismal gray sky.

Bulma heard a clatter behind her. Gasping, she sprang back, pulling the door completely shut. She whipped around to face the room just in time to see Vegeta stride out from behind the previously closed door from what must be the bathroom. He was gloriously naked and shocked to see her standing boldly in the middle of his bedroom. His black eyes flickered to the closed door behind her, before settling back on her. She tried to look unconcerned about the room and the contents she knew it held. This was amazingly easy, given what she had to distract her. Slowly her eyes slid down Vegeta's naked body, drinking in the perfection of his tightly bunched muscles and long lean form. Avid, she watched as Vegeta's cock lengthened in front of her eyes, his entire body poised to strike at the tiniest sign of invitation from her. Appalled, embarrassed and instantly wet all at once, Bulma spun around to face the wall.

Naked was not how she wanted to deal with Vegeta. Granted she felt comfortable with him when he was unclothed, but she needed to have a serious conversation with him that didn't mentally involve her jumping his bones every chance she got.

"You should put some clothes on."

"Weren't you complaining earlier about my state of dress?"

Bulma closed her eyes against the sexual onslaught that was Vegeta's voice. There was nothing tamed or subdued about him. He was a raw, hungry predator and it showed in his every nuance, including the husky timber of his voice.

"This isn't a booty call, Vegeta. You and I have to talk."

Vegeta sighed deeply behind her, and Bulma felt regret clench tightly between her breasts. She wanted nothing more, but to say 'fuck it', and run across the room to him, stripping her clothes off as she went, but she had to remember she was here on a mission. She needed to save her people, not get her brains fuck out.

There was some rustling behind her before Vegeta spoke. "Why are you here, Bulma?" He sounded tired, and when she turned around she caught him rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

She paused to watch him for a moment, just soaking him in. She tried to forget him this past year, but in reality she couldn't imagine another man in her life. He ruined her for anyone else, and a very large part of her was okay with that.

He became aware of her scrutiny and his expression closed itself to her. He leaned back against the wall, the soft blue shirt he pulled on stretching across his broad shoulders as he crossed his arms. It was the same stance he perfected while standing for hours in their cell staring at the bolted door. Right down to his crossed ankles. He was wearing a pair of loose dark pants now, but his feet were still bare and there was something incredible sexy about the way his toes curled. Like he was just a moment's notice from shucking his clothes and crawling into bed.

The entire situation made her sad. He was confidence personified, while she was squirming in her own skin. He was used to staring down monsters and fighting off skilled warriors. He didn't know the meaning of fear, much less insecurity. For Vegeta, there was no such thing as losing.

"I can't possibly beat you," she whispered distantly, and he lifted a questioning brow. She shook off her suddenly dark mood and squared her shoulders.

"We are both here for the same thing," she stated boldly, no longer sounding empty. "The Dragon Balls."

Vegeta chuffed like a discontented lion and pushed himself off the wall pacing the room restlessly. Distantly she realized she was the only person to see this side of him. Openly showing small hints of emotion, instead of quietly and motionlessly assessing his targets, strummed to attack. She wasn't a target. She wasn't a threat. She wasn't anything _bad_ to him. A hollow tightness in her chest dissolved at the thought, and her tenses muscles loosened.

He came to a sudden stop in the center of the room, turning to face her.

"Well, what about it?" His eyes narrowed, chilling her to the bone. "Like you said, you can't win," he finished softly.

Her lips thinned at the challenge in his voice. Pushing at him was like pushing at a brick wall. He just wasn't going to budge, but she had to try for the sake of humanity. Bulma opened her mouth to say something spectacularly logical, to bombard him with a brilliant argument that he couldn't possibly say no too. Unfortunately that's not what came out.

"I miss my mother. You have no idea how much I need her right now. And my papa, and my friends, and everyone I've ever known. I want my home back, Vegeta. I want my life," she ended in a rush. Vegeta's cold expression didn't change, crushing something inside her. Mortified at her show of emotion, Bulma cupped her hands over her face and turned away from him. Tears burned her eyes and she took a deep, ragged breath to keep them at bay.

"What's done is done. Your world is gone. Your people are gone. You may not think so, but there are more important things in this universe to wish for than resurrecting our dead."

His words were meant to a reminder that her world wasn't the only one destroyed by Frieza. During their time together, Bulma had learned a lot about Vegeta, including his devastating past. But his pain over the loss of his people was old and scarred over, while hers was fresh and bleeding.

"Like what, Vegeta? Your all consuming hunger for power? Admit it, you're a junkie."

Vegeta snarled and the frightening sound echoed through the room, bouncing off the bare steel walls. He took a step towards her, and her spine instantly stiffened with fear before he very visibly reigned himself in.

"I will admit a desire for power, woman. But it isn't as sordid as you make it sound. There are some evil sonsabitches out there. I should know, I was raised by them. Someone has to put a stop to it."

"Someone has to rule you mean?"

"It's my destiny," Vegeta replied quietly, and Bulma wondered if he was thinking of his father. The king had dreams of infinite power, of endless respect. Something he told Vegeta, only came with the power to rule.

"Why are you so heartless?" Bulma hissed, icy anger blazing in her cool blue eyes. All she could think about when she looked at him was all the wrong he had done to her.

"I'm a survivor. Something you need to learn to be yourself."

"I will never be like you," Bulma replied scathingly, barely able to look at him.

"Like what? Practical? Logical? In control?" He whipped his hand at her, indicting without words his disgust at her tears that she hadn't even noticed streaming down her face. "You want me to change," he said softly, watching her.

She sniffed loudly, wiping her tears away with both hands self consciously. No one likes a bawling woman her mother used to say. Besides, she wasn't a pretty crier. She always ended up looking like a snot-nosed, red-faced, shell-less turtle. "I don't want you to change; I want you to be who you used to be. I want you the way you were."

"This is me, I've never been different."

"You were different back on the ship. More raw. More primal. Open. This person---" she started, pointing to his clothing "---I don't know who this man is standing in front of me. The uniform changes you, not me."

He shifted uncomfortably, looking away to stare at a spot on the wall, before settling his gaze back onto her.

"Look, you're not alone, Bulma. You could stay here." Vegeta's harsh tone softened as he spoke and she could hear the indecision in his voice. Indecisive about what she didn't know. That she wouldn't accept his offer or that he really didn't really want her to accept? She gaped at him incredulously, the banked anger inside her roared back to life with a vengeance.

"You left me when I needed you the most, and now you are asking me to stay. Are you crazy?"

He dismissed her rhetorical question with a shrug of his broad shoulders. His intense, dark eyes pinning her to the spot as he spoke.

"No one ever needs me. People fear me, run from me, but no one ever _needs_ me."

"I needed you, Vegeta, and you left."

"I never made you any promises."

"Well, you made one promise," she muttered, lowering her eyes as she thought about what he said he would do to her once he rid himself of the power suppressing collar around his neck. Bright blue light flickered to life through the room. She glanced up, her face going pale an instant before flushing burning hot. Vegeta stalked slowly towards her, blue lighting snaking up his bare arms. The banked flames flaring to life in Vegeta's black eyes was unmistakable. Her body instantly responded, gushing heat to her center.

She backed away, hands warding him off. "No, I don't want that from you. Especially when you are slutting around with little Miss Beck and Call out there," she sneered, her face dead-serious. Vegeta paused, cocking his head to the side as he watched her with predatory eyes.

"What are you talking about, woman?"

"Your little Barbie doll whore. Tell me Vegeta, does she get down on bended knee to suck you cock whenever you snap your fingers."

"Lyedra?"

"Whatever," Bulma turned her back, fuming. She couldn't believe he thought he was going to weasel his way into his pants when it was clear to anyone who bothered to look that he was fucking his newest whore. Furious, she didn't hear Vegeta creep up behind her.

"Are you jealous?" he whispered in her ear.

She stiffened, but didn't pull away. There was no where left for her to go except for the study. And there was no way she was going to pull open the door to reveal the Dragon Balls.

"No, why should I be? It's not like we are in love or anything."

Vegeta pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around her so she couldn't struggle away. She wanted to melt into him. To let all the anger and fear fade away, and just revel in being in his arms. He nuzzled his face against the smooth line of her neck, inhaling deeply against her skin.

"I have had neither the time nor the inclination to touch another woman since we parted, and that is the truth." She loosened in his grasp, wanting so badly for the words whispered against her flesh to be reality.

"And if you had the inclination?" she whispered back, staring at the hard cold wall in front of her.

Before she could breathe he spun her around in the air, setting her on the round table by the door. The gold bowl raked across the table, wedged between the wall and her body. Facing her, he stepped between her thighs before she could protest. Surprised, she inhaled deeply to catch her breath. She smelled sandalwood and musk, everything that was Vegeta as he leaned in close to her.

"I doubt I would," he told her seriously, wrapping his strong hands around the collar of his thin shirt, before roughly tearing it apart. She gasped in surprise, her eyes darting up to his.

"Put your hand here." Before she could respond he grabbed her hand, placing it on his chest over his heart. His skin was like ice, and she had to resist the urge to pull away. Her eyes widened in fear. He had always been so hot, warm like the sun, but this icy chill to his skin was unnatural. It was frightening.

He shuddered at her touch. "I only feel warmth when you touch me," he confessed quietly, his eyes averted from hers.

True to his word she could feel his skin warm beneath her palm. She placed her other hand on his chest, sliding her palms across his flesh to warm him. He leaned into her as if he could spread her across his skin so he could be warm once again.

He cradled her delicate jaw in both his hands, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were bright with desire and barely suppressed need. They drifted down, focusing intently on the curve of her lips. Slowly the tip of his tongue slid along the line of his full lower lip. She followed its path with hunger, wishing his tongue was on her, inside her. He withdrew it, sucking in his lower lip, and biting gently down with his straight white teeth. Something hot and vital shot down her spine to the very tip of her clit, tingling and aching. With taunting deliberateness he released his lower lip, watching as her body arched in response, desperate to be closer to him and his awe-inspiring mouth.

With his hands still tucked away in her hair, he pulled her closer to him, lowering his mouth until their lips brushed together with butterfly lightness. His tongue darted out, the tip reverently tracing her lips.

"You taste like sunshine and sea salt," he whispered against her mouth.

Like a summer day on the beach, Bulma though to herself, before remembering that Vegeta probably wouldn't understand. He never spent a day of leisure sunning in the sand. His life was full of violence and bloodshed. Full of everything dark and bad. Except for her. She was the one thing in his life that wasn't bad. She knew that for certain, by the way he moved around her. The way he looked at her. The way he turned his back to her.

She wrapped her fingers around his thick wrists, shuddering at the coldness of his skin. Warmth was something that everyone needed. Bad or good. Whether they dwelled in darkness or sunshine. Warmth was a necessity and it was something she could give to Vegeta without reserve.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: This chapter orginally starts with a short sex scene, picking up where the last chapter left off. It isn't necessarily important to the story line, but it does have a tiny clue to what's going on with Bulma. The unedited version is on Media Miner. The links to all of my work, including those on Media Miner are on my bio page. I've tested the links and they do work. Feel free to navagate there if you want to read the complete chapter. Otherwise, happy reading to you all!

Free My Soul

Chapter Five

Lyedra moved silently through the darkened corridors of Cooler's ship. She was still stewing over the sudden appearance of the beautiful foreigner, but she didn't allow it to distract her from her currant mission. She took satisfaction in the knowledge the woman would be locked away for the entire evening. Perhaps if she felt a sliver of mercy at daybreak, Lyedra would set her free.

Lyedra swept through the halls, her bare feet soundless on the metal floor. She made her way to the bowels of the ship, pausing at a crossway to lick the air with her delicate pink tongue before abruptly turning left.

Rushing feet clattered behind her, and she pressed her back against the steel wall. In the narrow corridor there was nowhere to hide. Lyedra breathed deep in through her mouth, exhaling slowly through her nose. As the air left her body so did her color. It faded from her face, then her skin and hair until she was as translucent as the purest water from a mountain spring. Slowly silver crept into her hair, and flushed her skin until there was no shadow between her and the metal wall she was pressed against.

A harried messenger rushed by her, his purple skin flushed fuchsia. Quick and silent she pulled away from the wall, following on the messenger's heels. So close was she to him that when he entered the last room at the end of the hall, she slipped in before the automatic door could slide shut, and lock her out.

She tucked herself away into a corner. She was too far away to hear what the messenger whispered into Cooler's ear, but there was no way she could miss the tiny Namekian boy dressed in the white disciple robes of the powerful and wise Guru, the leader of the Nameks.

The boy was crying thick blue tears and bleeding green blood from his mouth. When he opened his mouth, more green blood spilled out, along with all the secrets his master ever shared with him.

8888

"I miss strawberries." Bulma traced wistful patterns on Vegeta's naked chest as she spoke.

"What?" His chest expanded, and Bulma rose with it. He had one hand propped beneath his head as he stared up at the bare ceiling. His other hand was tangled in Bulma short cropped hair, as he absently massaged the base of her skull.

"They are a type of fruit."

"Oh."

"Sex like that is deserving of strawberries and champagne." She moaned a little, deep in her throat.

They were naked now, legs tangled up in the sheets of the bed, but minutes earlier, she had been pinned to the wall, her toes inches off the ground as Vegeta held her spread eagle by his ki alone to feast on her as he desired. It was the kind of sex that even fantasy couldn't be compared too. As they explored every inch of each other, reacquainted themselves to their pleasure spots, but Bulma couldn't get the endless mantra out of her head, her voice chanting how much she loved him. She almost blurted it out a couple of times, but only emotional self preservation kept her silent.

"Sounds enjoyable."

Vegeta was watching her now, his eyes tracing over her features as if trying to memorize them. The lines around his firm mouth had disappeared and the coldness in his eyes was replaced with blanked fire. It was an opportunity that Bulma couldn't pass up.

"Very. Help me wish back my world and I'll show you."

Disappointment flickered across Vegeta's face, and Bulma felt a stab of pain through her chest. Abruptly he reared up, spilling her off of him as he stood up beside the bed. The black comforter tangled around his leg as he tried to walk away. Bulma grabbed it to keep it from going and leaving her exposed.

"I've already told you, what you ask for is impossible." He swept his hand through his hair, and Bulma watched the dance of his muscles on his back. He fished around the floor for his pants, finally finding them tossed behind the chair in the corner.

"It's a magical wish. Nothing is impossible." She sat up as she spoke, tucking the blanket across her chest like armor.

"It's impetuous and irresponsible," he spat, still refusing to look at her.

Frustrated, Bulma slammed her fist soundlessly against the mattress. "How can wanting your home back be irresponsible?"

He spun to face her, towering over the foot of the bed, his voice scathing. "Have you thought what would happen to Earth once you wish it back? It's sudden reappearance would only draw the eyes of the Colds."

"Who?"

"Frieza's powerful family." He turned away, hunting for a shirt in the tangled mess of their clothes on the floor.

"Goku will protect us."

Vegeta stilled beneath her words, even the muscles of his back froze. Very slowly he turned to face her, the darkness in his eyes bleeding back.

"Is that so? Where is your precious Kakarott now?"

She dropped her eyes away, and picked at the blanket. She wouldn't admit but she was hurt beyond words at Goku defection when she needed him the most. It seemed to her that men were good at only one thing. Leaving. Eventually everyone left. But she couldn't focus on that now. She had other responsibilities.

The door chimed, and the hot weight of Vegeta's gaze left her. Unconcerned about their state of undress he keyed the panel. The door slid open fully revealing the room. Lyedra stood on the other side, her pale skin flushed a becoming shade of pink, her tank top and ass-hugging shorts were barely decent.

"Milord," she started in a rush before catching sight of Bulma lounging decadently in Vegeta's bed.

Green eyes collided with blue. The curve of Bulma's perfect lips stretched into a Cheshire smile as she stroked her hand against the sheets. Amused, she watched fury grow in the other woman until it pouring out her brackish waves.

"This better be important," Vegeta barked, unmindful of the women's silent war or perhaps just uncaring.

Lyedra's eyes snapped back to her commander, before trailing down his naked chest and stopping at his half-done pants. She looked back up at him, her face hardening into a mask of intense disgust.

"It's nothing that can't wait. I didn't realize you were engaged."

"What of it?"

"Nothing, Milord. I will await your orders when you are ready." With that she spun on her naked heel and marched away with her head held high.

Vegeta turned away, the door sliding shut behind him.

"That woman wants me dead."

"Who, Lyedra?"

"Who else?" Bulma arched a brow at him. The anger in the room had fallen to a simmer. It could be easily reignited or it could be smoothed over into a different kind of heat entirely.

"She does nothing without my consent."

"So you say."

"I do say."

He stood over her, shirtless and authoritative. It would be so easy to coax him back into bed with her. So easy to forget her responsibilities and let him take over. Let him lead her. Care for her. Let him make the most monumental decision in her life. It wouldn't even be a bad life with him. She would be a queen. An Empress even. She would have everything she could ever want. All she had to do was say yes to a murderer. All she had to do was give up everything. Her home, her family, her friends. All she had to do was smile and draw him in.

The closed door caught her attention. Behind it were five golden balls of magic. Two balls short of salvation.

"Did she do as you said when you told her to throw the children into the fire?" Bulma swallowed as she spoke. She wanted to stare at the patch of black blanket between her thighs until it caught on fire, but she forced herself to raise her chin so she could look him in the eye.

He stared back at her, his eyes completely black.

"What are you talking about, Bulma?"

"At the village. I was there. I heard you issue the order. How many did you burn alive before they gave you what you wanted? How many children screamed until someone broke?"

Vegeta stared at her steadily, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"None."

She dropped her eyes, unable to look at him if he was lying. He leaned in, bracing one hand on the bed as he whispered into her ear, his voice snake-cold.

"But don't think I haven't killed children in the past. I have. Many times. And if I have too, I'll kill even more."

Bulma choked on the bile that was clawing at her throat. Unchecked tears were streaming down her face and falling from the point of her chin into her lap. This man may make a great ruler, an excellent warlord, but he could never be a father.

"Why? Why would you do something like that? To babies. To children."

He moved away, and she finally took a breath. He found his shirt, peeking from beneath the bed. Silently he pulled it on, not bothering to look at her.

"It's a mercy."

"A mercy?" she gasped, her wet eyes darting up to watch him.

"Yes." He turned fast, pinning her down with his cold eyes. "Look at me Bulma. Look at what I am. I grew up in Frieza's army. A child-soldier who followed every brutal order issued. Any child who survives a purge, a brush with this empire, will become what I am. Every child I kill is a soul I save."

She couldn't breathe beneath the weight of his look. She swallowed, unable to find words. His upper lip curled up over his sharp canines, slathering her with his disgust, before he spun on his heel. Without a backward glance he stalked from the room, leaving Bulma alone with her tears, and the dragon balls.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: OMG! I have never written so much dialogue EVER.

Free My Soul

Chapter Six

The man hit the floor, bounced once and lay lifeless. Vegeta stepped by him, conscious of the hard snip of Lyedra's heels behind him. As always the valley between his shoulder blades twitched. He proceeded into to the room, his dark eyes scanning the occupants. Boys dressed in white robes hid in the shadows, cowering and afraid. Two men stood ready near a wide throne where a huge man sat with skin the color of moss.

Vegeta stopped in the center of the room, grim and unafraid as he surveyed the Namekian leader. The soldiers were of no consequence to him. They were nothing more than powerless gnats. He sneered at them, satisfied when they shuddered where they stood. Guru laughed, a deep rich sound that was oddly soothing. Vegeta's gaze shot to him, silently questioning his humor.

"You are more terrifying than rumors portray."

Vegeta smiled, a sharp, predatory grin that warned the weak away.

"I'm here for the Dragon Ball."

"Of course you are."

"Hand it over." Vegeta's patience was thin. His argument with Bulma made him more dangerous than usual. Even his own men were shirking away from him.

Guru grunted. He thrust his weight forward, waddling out of his chair one bulbous butt cheek at a time. Vegeta watched with thinly veiled disgust.

"Yes, yes. It's this way." Guru motioned for Vegeta to follow as he ponderously crossed the room towards a wide archway.

"Milord, it could be a trap." Lyedra's sweet voice crawled down his spine. She was so close he could feel her breath on his neck. He held his ground though he wanted to shrug her away.

"Probably."

"Shall I come with you?" She shifted closer.

Vegeta wrenched around to look at her, his eyes blazing and his teeth snapping.

"And do what? There is nothing here that can harm me. And if he does lead me to a beast that can devour me, I surely wouldn't expect any help from a weakling like you."

Lyedra's cheeks flamed red, and her green eyes snapped with fire. Vegeta glared her down before turning on his heel to stomp over to Guru.

"Are you sure you up for a walk, old man?"

"Don't be impudent."

Vegeta would have snapped a scathing retort, but there was something soothing about the old man that made him want to laugh instead. Guru's mannerisms were peace itself. Liquid and flowing, there was nothing sly about the way he moved. His eyes were kind and his tone was fatherly. Fatherly in a way Vegeta could barely comprehend. Guru motioned to him, leading him to a wide winding staircase that dove down into the pillar of land where his small squat home was perched.

"Do you know much of the history of your home, Vegeta?"

"Some."

"A leader should know how he came into being."

"My father fucked my mother."

Guru snorted, and shook his head.

"Shall I tell you of how the Nameks came to be?

Vegeta sighed. After this he still had one last ball to collect. He didn't care to listen to a tall tale, yet, oddly he found himself in not much of a hurry to finish his duty. He liked it here on Namek. The pace was slow, the morals of the people were solid, and no one in particular was trying to kill him.

"Just produce the ball, old man, and I'll be on my way. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Of course not. It hasn't escaped our noticed that not one Namek has perished since your arrival. That is monumental."

Vegeta gave the old man a sideways glance. One of his antennae was drooping over his eye, and sweat was beading on his brow. They certainly weren't rushing down the seemingly endless stairs, but it was clear that the Namek was easily winded.

"How so?"

"Throughout time, many have come for the Dragon Balls, slaughtering our people until our blood enriched the land."

"If so many have had their wishes granted, how is it that I haven't heard of this magic before now?"

Guru chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. "I didn't say they had their wishes granted."

Vegeta stiffened, pausing on the stairs. He looked at his surroundings suspiciously. The vaulted ceiling of the home had disappeared, replaced by natural white limestone. The steps were carved out of the mountain itself, and the walls had the divots of worked stone. Glowing blue gems were mounted on the walls every few steps, clearing away the shadows just enough to watch your footing. Vegeta squinted his eyes, using his night vision to see further, but beyond the light was only more darkness leading further into the mountain. Guru continued for a few steps before realizing his companioned wasn't beside him.

"Where are you taking me?" Vegeta demanded with a voice as cold as glacial winds.

Guru smiled. "To the Dragon Ball."

"Which is guarded by what?"

"Nothing, my son. There is no trickery here. And like you said, you are far too powerful to be overtaken by anything here."

"By anything I've seen so far."

Guru shrugged and proceeded down the stairs. "Follow me, rush ahead, flee to your ship. All those choices are yours."

Vegeta stared at Guru's wide back.

"My choices aren't so broad as that." Vegeta drew even with his escort.

"I think they are more varied than you believe, but I digress. I have a tale to tell."

"Excellent. Namekian mythology. Just what I needed."

"So impudent. Now listen to what I say. In the beginning there was only Hahaoya. Her thick green vines encircled the world, protecting it, loving it, but with only her budding flowers to keep her company she was lonely."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. The further they descended the cooler the air became, smelling of moist dirt and cool water.

"So inside her pods she grew two brothers. They ripened inside her, feeding from the land and drinking from the suns. The first brother was born under the gold sun. He was strong, perfectly formed and happy. But the second pod brother struggled inside his cocoon. The first brother stayed beside the pod, whispering words of encouragement to his brother, but soon the golden sun sunk beneath the horizon and the red sun rose. Beneath the thin skin of the pod, the second brother writhed furiously, agonizing screams muffled inside the womb as if he was being burned by the sun's bright rays. Finally, the blue sun rose, casting shadows. The second brother burst the seams of the pod and slithered free, but he was weak, sickly formed and pained by even the blue sun's muted brightness. Afraid for his brother's life, the First whisked the Second away, and ensconced him deep within the womb of Namek."

"Old man. I have no interest in your creation tales."

"You should."

"And why is that?"

"You'll see. Now don't be rude. The Second couldn't bear to be in the sunlight, but every soul needs light to survive. So the First, after soaking in his fill of the suns would see to his brother's needs. They loved each other fiercely, but the second was jealous, angry and bitter. He couldn't venture into the light, and he resented his reliance on his brother. So he was cruel to the only one who loved him. He spurned his brother, and eventually in a rage he killed him."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. It is better to destroy your weakness that to live with it."

"Perhaps, but without the light, the second brother became a withered, heartless shadow of himself. Souless and angry, he burrows his way through the innards of Namek, feeding on worms and drinking her hot blood. He is forever damned to his prison of darkness, unable to escape, unable to find the love he once knew.

The stairs emptied out into a huge cavern. The white limestone walls were bathed in flickering blue lights, and in the distance Vegeta could hear the trickle of water. In the center of the room, a monolithic ivory statue stood, one arm outstretched as it grasped a golden orb in its palm.

"In the grief of his loss, the Second erected a statue of his brother. In moments of clarity, when madness ceases its raking of its claws across his brain, he ventures here and prays for forgiveness at his brother's feet."

"Forgiveness is a weakling's word."

Vegeta levitated off the ground until he drew even with the Dragon Ball in the statue's hand. He examined it carefully, looking for hidden traps or trip wires. Satisfied he lifted the ball from its stand, and returned to his guide.

"That's it?"

Guru shrugged. "Should there be more?"

Vegeta glanced around the room again, expecting some beast to leap out at him. Seeing nothing, he turned towards the stairs to begin the long hike to the top. Guru fell into step next to him. Vegeta wondered how far the old man would get before he collapsed from heart failure.

"What will you do with your prize?"

"I will wish for power so I can defeat my enemies and rule as I was meant to."

"That's an awful lot of ambition for just one fella."

"It's not ambition. It's destiny."

"Well now, that's a pretty powerful word you're using."

"It is what it is."

"Seems to me people get the idea of destiny all tangled up with things such as ambition, pride, and duty."

"What do you know of it, old man?"

"I know destiny isn't decided by us mere mortals. In fact, only the Gods know our true destiny. Most of the time our future is completely unexpected."

"My life isn't flippant decisions made by fickly, unknowable gods. It's what I make of it."

"Oh, I see."

"You see what?"

"So being homeless, parentless and friendless are choices made by you?"

"What do you know of my life?"

"The past is rarely ambiguous if you take the time to look. It's the future that is unknowable to us all."

"Whatever, old man. My past may have been out of my control, but my future is not."

"You put a lot of stock in being in control don't you, Vegeta?"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"No. It's quite good. As long as you exert your control in the right way."

"You and your riddles. What do you care?"

"Besides the obvious? You are in control here. You haven't killed one of my people yet you have gained everything you wanted."

Vegeta frowned. He hadn't gained everything. He was as sure as he was breathing that Bulma wouldn't be waiting for him when he returned. She would be gone, and he couldn't quite decide how he felt about that. He picked at it. Like a scab over a poorly healed wound. It hurt, but he couldn't stop either.

"So what are you going to do with all this control?"

"You mean power?"

"One in the same, aren't they?"

"I suppose." Vegeta paused, his brow furrowed in thought as he imagined his future. "I will be Emperor. I will rule the universe and crush my enemies."

"So you've said. What does all that entail exactly?"

"Complete obedience from all."

"I see. Millions bowing at your feet?" Vegeta nodded. "Riches and glory?" He nodded again. "Harems of women?"

Vegeta was silent as he looked stonily ahead, counting the steps to the top of the stairs.

"All this bowing and scraping. Lazy luxury and wanton women. Tell me what does she think of this?"

Guru plucked a blue hair from Vegeta sleeve, holding it to the light before blowing it away into nothingness. Vegeta frowned at its departure.

"She is of no concern."

"Her opinion doesn't matter to you?"

"She has no opinion to give. She isn't staying."

"I see."

"You see a lot, old man."

Guru chuckled as he tucked his hands behind his back. Though the climb was harder than the descent he seemed no worse for wear. "Well, I am a seer."

"Pompous gas bag more likely."

"Perhaps, I did have lichen moss water for lunch." Guru smiled and rubbed his round belly. "But tell me who will be there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Millions to rule over. Legislation and decrees to issue. All that power and wealth and so many people fawning for their share. Who will be there by your side? Who will you trust with your secrets?"

The image of Lyedra's slyly seductive face intruded on Vegeta. She would make a fearsome queen. A ruthless consort for a merciless warlord.

"I need no one."

"Like you needed no one as a child?"

"As a child I had no choice to my fate."

"It sounds to me that as a man you have no choice either."

"I control my fate."  
"If that's so then why are you living for another's expectation?"

"My father—"

"Is dead." Guru turned to face Vegeta so he might see the truth of his words. Vegeta returned his kind gaze with a deep fierceness.

"You are just trying to twist my mind so you can steal what is rightfully mine. I will rule. I will rule well."

"I believe you would make a fine ruler, Vegeta. One of the best the universe has seen I suspect."

"But?"

"Without light you will never be happy. Despair and loneliness will eventually consume you."

Vegeta shrugged the old man off, clearing the last few steps to the top.

"What is happiness anyway?"

"Why, Vegeta. It's what makes our souls shine."

"Well it's a good thing I'm a soulless bastard, isn't it?"

Without a backward glance, he exited the room to collect his soldiers. Guru watched him go, sadness infinite in his kind eyes.

If only that were true, my son."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: I think my creative writing teacher is actually making me a worse writer. The man is never satisfied!

Free My Soul

Chapter Seven

Bulma scurried after the chubby infant who was toddling away on two feet, diaper sagging, and a black tail waving fiendishly.

"Where do you think you are going?"

She caught the infant from behind, sailing her up into the air. The baby girl giggled, her curling black hair framing her fat cheeks. She reached out for Bulma, stubby little fingers grasping for blue hair.

"Oh, no you don't. Your grabby little paws were the reason mommy had to cut off all her hair." Bulma plastered a huge fake pout across her face, before laughing when the baby imitated it, right down to her pulled lower lip.

"Mommy." The baby laughed again and reached for her mother's tantalizing hair.

Bulma hugged her close, rocking her back and forth.

"You are the most special baby in the whole universe. Three months old and already walking and talking. You are going to be smart like your mommy and strong like your daddy. No one is ever going to push Bunny Briefs around."

"By six months she'll be able to destroy her first city."

Bulma jerked her head up in surprise. Vegeta stood in the doorway of the small house she had hidden, very cleverly she thought, in the back of a cave. He was dressed in a basic blue uniform with a golden dragon ball beneath his arm. The grim line to his usually full mouth sent flutters of fear down her spine. She hugged Bunny closer, angling her away from Vegeta. He frowned, the lines of his brow deepening.

"Not my Bunny. She's my little angel."

"Bunny?"

"I named her after my mom. I told you I really need her right now. I have no idea how to do this by myself."

Feeling lost, Bulma bit her lip and looked down at her daughter. Bunny watched her with the same blue eyes. When Bunny saw her mother's sadness she began to cry, great big wailing sobs that hurt the ears.

"Shush, don't cry baby. Mommy's here."

Bunny hiccupped. She rubbed her face with the back of her hand before glancing over at Vegeta. Three months old and as smart as a whip, it was clear by the mutinous expression forming on her round, angelic face that she felt Vegeta was the cause of her mother's discomfort. The fur on her black tail stood on end, and a gurgling growl built up in her tiny chest.

"Bunny!" Bulma admonished, surprised at her baby's behavior.

Vegeta flashed the child his teeth, his own growl reverberating through the room. Bunny squeaked, and hid her face in her mother's chest.

"Vegeta!"

"She has to learn."

"Learn what? That daddy is a scary man?"

"If you had it your way she wouldn't even know me." Vegeta's words were soft with anger. Bulma shifted her weight uncomfortably, looking away from Vegeta's piercing gaze.

"Nana," Bulma called.

A woman with curly blond wig and metal skin bounced into the room. She had an obscene smear of red lipstick across her metal lips and wore a red dress that made her silver skin shimmer.

"Take Bunny. Protocol Twelve."

"Yes, ma'am."

The android took the baby, who went willingly into her nanny's arms and walked away.

"What was that?"

"A Neural Artificial Nanite Android. NANA. I created her to help me to take care of Bunny."

"Looks like you are doing just fine without your mother or me."

"Vegeta--."

"Shut-up." Vegeta slashed his hand through the air. Bulma took a step back. "Where are the dragon balls?"

"What?"

"Don't play games, Bulma. I know you stole them from my room." Vegeta advanced, glancing around the prefabricated house. There was an overstuffed chair nearby. He dropped the dragon ball he retrieved from Guru into the seat. Part of him hadn't been surprised when he returned to his ship to find his other dragon balls missing.

"How did you find me? I made sure I left no tracks this time."

"Tracks? Woman, I could find you in Hell if I had too. All I have to do is think of you."

Bulma blushed at the intimate tone of his words, backing away from him as he advanced. He herded her into a wall, staying just far enough away that she couldn't feel his heat, but close enough for her to feel threatened.

"Why would you leave the ship? Why are you right in the thick of danger with our child? Why weren't you going to tell me?" His voice softened at the last question, and Bulma thought she heard hurt in his voice, but when she looked up at him she only saw cold anger. She looked away, staring sightlessly at the end table.

"I couldn't stay on the ship."

"Why?"

Bulma sighed, and rubbed her trembling fingers across her lips. Vegeta moved closer, his heat comforting her.

"Everyone was very sympathetic when I was pregnant. No one asked me about the father. They all assumed he died back on Earth. But when Bunny was born it was clear that she wasn't human. They didn't understand why I would have kept the child of an alien who must have raped me. The child of an alien who must have participated in the destruction of our world. They didn't know what really happened, and I couldn't explain it to them. When they saw how much I loved Bunny, they were angry. When they looked at her all they saw was our dead world. I had to get away. I was afraid they would hurt my baby if I didn't."

"Where was Kakarott?" Vegeta bit out the question between tight lips, and Bulma shrunk away.

"He was gone by then. Chasing after some sort of evil he felt rising across the universe." Bulma crossed her arms across her stomach, hunching her shoulders. "I was alone and afraid. I didn't know what to do. I wanted my mother so badly. I wanted everything back. I figured the only way to do that was the dragon balls, so I came here in an escape pod."

Vegeta didn't speak, but he leaned a fraction closer.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"I didn't think I would find you here. I had no idea where you were. You left me, remember?" Anger flashed across her face, making her eyes sparkle.

Vegeta braced one hand near her head on the wall. He was closing in on her. Boxing her in so she couldn't escape him.

"You had no intention of telling me," he accused.

"I would have." She stared down at their toes. She was still wearing her tan hiking boots. Vegeta was dressed in white leather boots with gold tips.

"But?" The demand in his words was softly spoken, but persistent. Bulma tried to shrink away. She thought about not answering, but there was no escape once Vegeta had you.

"You ordered those people thrown into the fire. Children," she whispered. She trembled against the wall. A dark spot appeared on the toe of her boot. Another tear dripped.

Vegeta leaned away, taking his heat with him. Coldness swept between them.

"You thought I would harm my own child?"

"No. I don't know. I don't really know you that well, do I, Vegeta?" Her arms tightened around her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick. She could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of her neck, pushing her down towards the floor. She wished she could collapse in on herself and disappear forever. Vegeta took another step away, and she wanted to cry at the loss.

"Where are the dragon balls?" Cold, clipped and authoritative. Bulma shrugged in response.

"I don't have them."

"It seems you are more of a liar than I thought."

"You just can't trust anyone, can you, Vegeta?"

Both Bulma and Vegeta whipped around. Cooler stood in the doorway, smiling as if he was an invited house guest. He sauntered in, followed by Lyedra who carried the last remaining dragon ball. With her she dragged a small Namekian boy who had dark pink bruises cresting his swollen cheeks and lips.

Vegeta shot a look at his dragon ball, still nestled in the seat of the chair. Cooler followed his gaze.

"Well now. Two down. Five to go." His cold reptilian gaze slid over to Bulma. "And I hear you are the one to talk to about that."

Vegeta stepped in front of her, blocking Cooler's view of her.

"I see it didn't take long for you to jump ship." Vegeta glared at Lyedra. She tossed the boy away from her, cocking her hip as she twirled a finger through her long blonde hair.

"We could have had something special, Vegeta. But you had to go and fraternize with that pathetic female who's cowering behind your back. It's disgusting really. I need a man who appreciates my talents. Who sees my value."

"You will address me as Lord Vegeta."

"Not for long." She giggled.

"I knew she couldn't be trusted," Bulma hissed from behind Vegeta's back.

"Now, now. Just give us the dragon balls. No one has to get hurt here," Cooler cooed in a sickly sweet voice.

"Never." Vegeta squared off.

Cooler grinned. "We'll see about that. Your female looks very fragile. She will break quickly. Then the wish will be mine."

Without warning, Vegeta charged Cooler. He hit him with such force that it carried them both through the wall and out of the house. Lyedra dropped the dragon ball she had been holding in surprise, stepping away from the hole to appraise the damage. Bulma didn't hesitate. She disengaged a capsule from her utility belt and threw it to the ground, obscuring herself in a haze of smoke.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: I know there have been concerns that I wouldn't be return to this fiction and I apologize. It has taken me some time to recover from my creative writing teacher's influence. It wasn't that he was a bad teacher in any way; it just was that my writing was good, but never quite good enough. It was that 'not quite' that gave me the metal trouncing that depleted my mojo. If I have such a thing. I want to thank everyone for their support, so very kindly given. I also want to assure you that it wasn't the negative feedback I received from the previous chapter that stopped my writing. I had this story plotted from beginning to end before I even started. It was always my intention to introduce Bunny in such a surprising fashion. In fact, throughout the story I was stressed that I was giving away too many clues of her existence, but perhaps the clues (short hair, body conscious) were those only a woman having been pregnant may have noticed. However, my writing in the previous chapter is stilted, and not at all like my normal style, and for that I'm deeply sorry. While I am not completely happy with this chapter either, it is an improvement, and I am satisfied with the remaining chapters. I have found my mojo and I'm happily cuddling with it as I speak. I will be posting every Thursday or Friday from here on out until the story is completed. Thanks for sticking with me, and for reading this pathetic ramble.

Chapter Eight

Lyedra squinted into the haze of smoke. A huge form, dark and sturdy against the wispy gray, thundered, and the ground trembled. The smoke cleared, and Lyedra could see hard, blue eyes beneath a protective face plate. The mechanoid Bulma had climbed into was bulky, but agile enough to cover rough terrain while hunting dragon balls. It had enough strength to smash large boulders, and an armored exoskeleton that could withstand burning lava or the airless vacuum of space.

"A toy can't defeat me." Lyedra spat through thin, perfectly pink lips.

"I don't make toys."

The metallic plates on her arm slid back, forming the muzzle of a machine gun. Bulma pulled her index finger back, and a spray of bullets chased Lyedra as she dove for cover. Bulma smiled. A warrior, who dodged bullets, was a warrior weak enough to be afraid of them. She swept away the plush lounge chair Lyedra dove behind, smirking when it hit the wall, and exploded into kindling.

Her eyes narrowed at the empty space behind the chair. She quickly scanned the room, but saw only furniture in disarray. From outside she could hear muffled shouts, and the sound of rock collapsing as the two warriors fought their way out of the cavern. Bulma staggered under a blow that nearly drove her to her knees. She spun around, swinging at empty air. Her virtual screen showed only minimal damage to the exo-suit, but if she was knocked over she would be as helpless as a turtle on its back.

Another blow struck her from behind. Bulma shot out an arm to brace herself, her fist punching through the dry wall. Balanced she scanned the room, still seeing no movement.

"Just like an idiot man. You think strength will win the day."

Lyedra's laughter faded off to the right, but when Bulma looked all she saw was the open kitchen with a fridge too small to hide in.

"No one calls me stupid," Bulma hissed into her headset. Her fingertips danced over the keypad inside her metallic glove. A geometrical map of the room overlaid her face mask. She looked for heat signatures, for anything moving, anything warm. Frowning, Bulma widened the spectrum looking for cold spots. A slither of blue darted behind her. Bulma countered, spinning around. She flailed, coming into contact with something solid. She closed her fists, gripping a soft fleshy body between her metal hands. It squirmed hard, almost slipping away. Bulma threw the invisible weight against the wall, cracking the plaster. White drywall dust sprinkled to the ground, displacing itself over a heap on the floor.

Lyedra sprang up and sprinted off before Bulma could catch her. A fast flush of pink flooded into her features making her visible once again.

"I'm going to kill you." Her tongue flickered past her lips. "You and the tiny warm-body I taste in the air."

Bulma's guts dropped out from under her. She was filled with ice cold fear. She had issued protocol twelve to NANA before the android had whisked off Bunny. They should by safe by now, outside of the cave, by way of a hidden tunnel out the backside of the house. Reassured with the knowledge, rage followed on the heels of terror, burning it away, and leaving behind killing calculation.

"I _was_ going to let you live."

Bullets sprayed the walls, leaving fist-sized holes. Lyedra ran, only milliseconds ahead of the barrage. Leading her, Bulma launched a concussion grenade. Still outpacing the bullets, Lyedra ran right into the blast. The wave flung her across the room, flipping her upside down as she hit the wall and slumped to the ground.

With heavy steps, Bulma came to stand over Lyedra. The woman's normally pink features were pale next to the bright trickles of blood from her mouth and ears. Though the blast gave the woman's insides a good shake, Bulma had no doubt she was still alive. The prospect of killing a helpless thing, no matter how evil, stuttered Bulma's heart. She clicked the release button, sliding from her seat as the front of the mechanoid lifted to allow her exit. From her hip pack she pulled out a pair of titanium cuffs. She knew they would be strong enough to hold the woman collapsed at her feet. She flipped Lyedra on her belly, wrestling her arms behind her to secure her wrists.

Standing straight, Bulma looked over the shambles that was once her home. For the briefest moments the Japanese style abode had made her feel connected with her home; as if Earth had never been destroyed; as if her parents were only a phone call away. She had tucked Bunny into bed next to her at night, and told her of all the wonderful things she would have once Earth was restored. Grandma's fabulous lemon cookies, Grandpa's hugs. All those glorious things would be hers once Mommy made her wish. This hut had been Bulma's shelter against the reality of the universe. It had even protected her from Vegeta. In-between these walls she could pretend that he didn't exist. That Bunny was a product of Immaculate Conception. She could pretend that she had never fallen in love with a man whose greater love had been for power.

Now her shelter was shattered apart. Her child whisked away to be protected by a super human android, but never to be loved by it. Bulma had to stop hiding in her memories. She had to stop pining for a man who may or may not love her. She needed to reach down deep, and find the famous Bulma Briefs bravery, because her baby needed her to come through for her now. If Bulma failed then Bunny would never taste a lemon cookie, or smell nicotine-tinged love.

Bulma scooped up the two fallen dragon balls, adding them to her collection compressed inside a capsule. She secured her laser pistols to her hip, walking out the ragged hole that used to be her door, and nearly fell on her face.

She righted herself, looking down at the little green boy who had been cowering away from danger.

"Oh, my. I had forgotten all about you."

The little boy shrunk down, trying to hide from her in the shadows. Blue blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and his white robes were stained with dark smudges. She crouched down next to him, her face etched in pain when she saw how badly he had been beaten.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. I'm a good guy."

The boy sniffed rubbing his eyes across his robes leaving a smear of blue behind.

"Are you hungry?" She pulled out a dried ration bar. "It tastes pretty awful, but its food."

The boy peaked up at her shyly, and shook his head.

Bulma snapped her fingers and scrambled up. "Darn, I can be so stupid sometimes." She went inside, quickly returning with a tall glass of water and a damp wash cloth.

The boy took the water eagerly, gulping it down. Bulma took back the empty glass, smiling at him. He returned it tentatively.

She leaned forward slowly, dabbing the corner of his mouth with the cloth. "My name is Bulma. What's yours?"

"Dende."

She finished wiping the blood from his face, her lips pressed tight at the sight of the bruises she found underneath.

"So what did those bastards want with you?"

"I know how to summon Porunga, the Eternal Dragon."

"I see," Bulma replied solemnly.

In the distance, there was an enraged scream that shook the world around them. A stalactite lost its grip on the ceiling, and crashed down mere feet from them. Bulma jumped up, grabbing the boy by the arm, and hauled him out of the cave to safety.

Outside the world was wreaked. It no longer was a flat paradise where the air was so still that the grass didn't even move. The serenity was broken by battle cries, and sonic blows that ripped mountains apart.

Dread filled Bulma when she saw the destruction all around. Forgetting about the boy, she scrabbled to the top of a nearby mound, disregarding the dirt that wedged itself underneath her nails. The valley below her was slashed with burnt gullies and dotted by burst boulders.

Vegeta was on his knees, blood streaming from his scalp and down his face. His clothes were hanging in shreds from his body, and Bulma could see the gleam of sweat and blood on his back and chest. Cooler stood over him, laughing.

"No! Vegeta." She put a trembling hand over her mouth. She didn't have to be a child of war to understand what was going on. Vegeta wasn't strong enough to defeat Cooler. He wasn't strong enough to keep his position as ruler. He wasn't strong enough to keep his life.

"He's one of the good guys. We should save him."

Bulma startled at the small voice next to her.

"Good guys?"

The boy looked away shyly. "He hasn't hurt anyone. Guru says he'd make a great ruler, but that is not the path of his light."

"His light?"

The young boy looked at her with eyes that seemed much older than they should. His gaze was intense, and she had to turn away, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. The boy slid back down the hill. Bulma followed him without a sound.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z. My world would be a happier place if I did.

Free My Soul

Chapter Nine

Bulma kicked the dragon balls into a loose circle in the shadow of a small, grassy hill. Behind her, Dende chanted, his young voice cracking over the words. The absent wind suddenly kicked up, blowing through Bulma's short hair. The sky darkened overhead. Shadows streamed into the clouds, thickening and churning. Bulma collapsed to her knees next to the ring of golden balls, allowing the wind and shadows to rush over her. She wished they would take her sadness with them, carrying it up to the sky, so she could forget what she was about to sacrifice.

Bulma wanted to go back to a time that didn't exist anymore. She wanted to bring her little girl up in the comfort and security of a world she knew. The roaring wind trickled down into a breeze. She glanced up, and in the sky was a coil of dark green scales and whirling shadows. The dragon peered down at her with pitiless, gold eyes, daring her to speak. When she looked at him, she could see all of her hopes and dreams in the vastness of his eyes. Here was a creature greater than any god she had never met. This was a creature who could grant her anything, if she could just find the voice to ask.

A single tear crested her pale cheek. Dende placed a small hand on her shoulder from behind. A tiny child, she could barely feel him, but his presence was overwhelming.

"It's going to be okay, Bulma."

She placed her hand over his, feeling the warmth of his fingers.

"I know."

Gulping down her loss, Bulma struggled to her feet.

"What is your wish?"

The force of the dragon's voice nearly knocked her back to her knees. All she could do was stare, watching as annoyance pinched its snout.

"What is your wish?"

"I wish—"

Pain blistered her heart, and she stuttered to a stop. She rubbed her chest, thinking of her daughter. Dende slipped his small hand into hers.

"You must stay true to your path."

Bulma glanced down at him, confusion lining her brow.

"How do I know what my path is?"

"It's what's in your heart."

She smiled, squeezing the boy's hand. Looking back up at the dragon she took a deep breath, and spoke from her heart.

"I wish that Vegeta was endowed with the strength he needs to defeat his enemies."

"I can only grant him what he is capable of."

Despair crashed down on Bulma. She knew there was a limitation on the amount of wishes, but on _what_ she could wish for as well?

"Vegeta has yet to reach his potential," Dende offered.

Bulma nodded, rubbing her sweaty palm down her thigh.

"Then grant him every drop of power that he is capable of. Unlock the power that is inside him so he can be victorious," she called up to the dragon, raising her hands to him in supplication.

"It is done," the dragon boomed. For an instant silence lay heavy over the world, then was shattered by a scream that ran over the hills and valleys, followed by gusts of wind, and sparks of light.

Relief shot through Bulma. Now that the decision had been made, weight melted off her heart. She stumbled back, allowing Dende to seat her on a large gray boulder. It felt cool and lumpy beneath her. It was done. There was no going back. No acid eating at her gut, as she tried to decide what would be best. Vegeta was great now. He would protect her. He would care for their daughter. It wouldn't be perfect. It wouldn't be Earth, but at least they would be alive. Maybe, they could even be together. Happy.

"What is your second wish?"

Bulma nearly pitched off her perch. She stared up at the great dragon aghast.

"Second wish? How many wishes do you grant?"

"Three."

At his response, Bulma splayed her fingers across her face, her mouth agape. Suddenly, she laughed, sobbing between the guttural outbursts. Three wishes? If only she had known. The arguments with Vegeta could have been avoided. She wouldn't have agonized so!

Galvanized she shot off the rock. "I wish for Earth and its people to be restored!" She shouted happily, nearly jumping up and down.

"This cannot be done."

Bulma stared up at the dragon uncomprehendingly. "What do you mean it can't be done? You are the eternal dragon. You grant wishes. This is my wish!"

"The loss of life was too great. I cannot restore that which was not taken by me. Something so terrible done by a mortal can only be undone by a mortal."

"But how?"

"I can fold time, and return you to a point before your world was destroyed with all your knowledge intact. If you are strong enough, perhaps you can undo the wrongs perpetrated against you."

"Go back? But that would mean—". Bulma fell to her knees before the dragon, her fists pressed to her chest. Strands of her fine blue hair blew across her face, hiding her eyes. "That would mean everything I experienced since then would have never happened. Vegeta and I would have never met. Would have never---. Bunny would never---. But I would remember. I would remember it all." Her voice hollowed out, and it echoed in the still air.

The weight returned, pressing hard between her shoulder blades. She lurched forward, digging one hand in the grass to keep her from falling into the dirt. The grass was soft and cool, but beneath it she could feel the sharp pang of tiny pebbles digging their way into her skin.

"You cannot ask a mother to murder her child," Bulma gasped. The pale green grass swam in her view.

"It would not be murder if she never existed."

"She does exist!" Bulma screamed, her head thrown back, her fists full of grass. "She exists right here and now, you bastard."

"Then you wish to revise your second request?" The dragon queried in bored, unconcerned tones.

Bulma shrieked into the sky, inconsolable by the little boy who clucked soothingly nearby. Frustrated, and exhausted by the weight, Bulma launched herself prone into the grass, slamming her fists into the dirt until they bled.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ. Haven't I said this enough already?"

Free My Soul

Chapter Ten

The sun crested the horizon, burning away the shadows gathered above her. The heat warmed her back, massaging away her tension. Her sobs quieted, and the pain in her chest lessened so she could catch her breath. Bulma lifted her head, whipping her wet eyes with her forearm. The light blinded her. She blinked, refocusing. Vegeta stood over her, golden and god-like. She stared at him in awe, barely responding when his strong hand grasped her elbow to lift her up.

"Vegeta." He had been ungodly handsome before, but now he was beautiful. He shone with light, bronzing his skin and gilding his hair blonde. Gone were his dark, brooding eyes, instead they were the brightest shade of teal she had ever seen. The heat of his transformation had burned away most of his clothes, leaving him bare to the watchful sky. If she didn't know him so intimately, she might not have recognized him.

She stood in the loose circle of his arms, trailing her fingers across his bicep. He smirked and flexed. She smiled, rolling her eyes, when a voice boomed above them.

"Your second wish," Porunga demanded impatiently.

Bulma staggered as the weight of her loss came crashing back.

"Second wish?" Vegeta echoed, stepping away from Bulma.

"Ms. Bulma used her first wish to grant you power," Dende replied. He was hovering nearby, twisting his hands together as he watched the imposing man who so gently handled the delicate woman.

Unconsciously, Vegeta clenched his fists at his sides. The power rushing through his veins was intoxicating. When it suddenly surged inside of him, it was like being reborn. Everything was different. Colors were brighter, scents stronger, and time itself seemed to stop as he watched Cooler attack. As he ground his enemy into bone dust, he allowed himself to believe for an instant that it was his own doing; that somehow in need and desperation, he tapped power laying dormant inside, but he couldn't quite convince himself of it. It wasn't his strength. It was stolen. No, worse, it was given.

Dende watched the proud warrior closely, antennae twitching thoughtfully.

"The dragon could not grant something you didn't already have possession of. Ms. Bulma just wished for your potential to be unlocked."

Vegeta glared at the young boy. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had cheated. That somehow he had skipped vital landmarks to his ascension. However, what Bulma did was more or less what he would have done for himself.

"So you used your wish on me?"

Bulma wasn't listening. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her midriff, her hair hanging low over her brow. Vegeta glanced at the stern dragon in the sky.

"Make your wish, Bulma. Get your world back."

"I can't."

Vegeta could barely hear her over the low, impatient rumbling above them.

"You can't? Just open your damned mouth, and speak your desire, woman."

Bulma burst into tears, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. Chastened, Vegeta shifted his weight.

"Porunga cannot restore her world. He can only fold back time and return her to before the attack," Dende explained.

"This wish would return everyone back to their place in that moment in time, including you, Lord Vegeta. Only the wish maker retains their memories of what has passed."

The dragon's voice ripped across the landscape as he spoke. Bulma and Dende collapsed to their knees at its sheer force. Only Vegeta remained standing, gazing with emotionless eyes up at the dragon. That fateful day on Earth seemed so long ago. He stood on the cusp of victory, before Frieza unexpectedly arrived to tear it all away. He had been so weak then. So full of anger and hate that it festered his insides until he was sick with it. The thought of returning to such a state of non-being after _being_, devastated a part of him deep inside. Even if he never remembered, the loss would resonate inside of him. All this didn't explain Bulma's tears.

"You would not have the strength to destroy Frieza. Is that what is stopping you?"

He wanted to reach across and comfort her, but he couldn't bear to be near the woman whose next words could rip his very soul away.

"I can't do it, and it's killing me. One life for billions, it's so logical."

She was kneeling at Vegeta's feet, shoved into submission by the dragon's voice. He remembered his promise, and hauled her to her feet.

"What are you babbling about?"

The look she shot him was full of stunned betrayal, awed by his sheer lack of understanding.

"Bunny. I would have to murder my baby. Our child. Have you forgotten her so readily?" She lashed out with a small fist, bruising it against his chest. Vegeta captured her hand, pulling her into him.

"She would have never existed," he reasoned, with careful, measured tones.

She fluttered against him, like a frightened finch in a gilded cage. "But I would remember. Don't you understand? Her memory would always be bright inside me, and I could never live with that."

"Bulma, I understand."

"How could you?" she spat, still full of anger and despair.

"I know want. Want so bad that it becomes a need. And I know regret. Regret so deep it becomes a sickness in your bones."

"But that need has become a failure. I've worked so hard, lived so long in mourning, whispering dreams of hope in my daughter's ear. How can I give up now? How can I turn my back on humanity? What kind of person would that make me? To allow billions to sacrifice their lives so I might keep my daughter?" Angry tears were spilling across her cheeks, dripping to the ground.

"They are already dead. It is only the presence of the dragon that fills you with doubt." He paused, watching closely for her reactions. She said nothing. She stood pale and motionless, tears slipping down. "You think you are alone out here. But you're not. You have me. We have Bunny." Vegeta swallowed. "We could be happy."

The anger drained from her, leaving her weak with despair. She rested her forehead in the hollow of his shoulder. For just a fraction of a moment, Vegeta was struck with the thought, that she lost her shine.

"Do you promise?"

There was a moment of silence, and even the humming in the sky seemed to still. Vegeta struggled with the emotions inside of him. This was his moment. He could have everything. Unparalleled power. Rule of the universe. The woman he desired above all else. A family. It was all within the grasp of his powerful fist. His father would be so proud. The last thought made something sick churn in his belly.

"Yes."

Slowly, she lifted her countenance to his, a tentative smile edging the full corners of her mouth. She opened her mouth to speak, and her throat filled with white light, spilling from her pink lips. The light tore through her chest, pinging harmlessly off Vegeta. Hot blood splattered across his face. Bulma slipped from his grasp, falling to the soft grass with a thud.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.

Free My Soul

Chapter Eleven

Lyedra appeared before Vegeta. The pale skin on her forearms had sloughed off leaving behind thin wrists and narrow clawed hands covered with emerald scales. Vegeta had her by the neck before she could breathe. She smiled up at him, her pink lips stretching morbidly at the corners.

"It was worth it."

The sound of her neck cracking echoed across the green valley. He dropped her like the trash she was, spinning towards Bulma. She was staring sightlessly up at the grand dragon in the sky. In her chest was a gaping hole, the size of a fist, but she still held the first fringes of a smile on her lips.

Vegeta dropped to his knees, devastated. Death was commonplace in his world. Everyone died. Not only died, but died suddenly. Rarely did they linger. One moment they breathed, and the next they didn't. That was the way of things. Death long ago had ceased to impact him. But why did he feel like howling? Why did he feel something warm extinguish in his chest? Even now he felt the coldness wash over him.

He stroked her face, uncomprehending as to why his hand shook. Her cheek was warm and smooth beneath his fingertips, but there was no strumming of life. She didn't look right. Her was beautiful, but there was something unpolished about her. She wasn't bright. Wasn't warm. Wasn't full of the light he loved so much. Loved. What an awful human word. What did it mean anyways? To have done or maybe felt something unthinkable in the past? What was at its root? Just a word. Like planet, or sun, or flower or Legendary. Meaningless sounds strung together, meant to mean something, meant to make you feel.

Movement edged his vision, and Vegeta withdrew his hand from Bulma's cooling cheek.

"You have a choice now, Vegeta."

The boy's voice sounded older than it should. Bloodshed aged a boy into a man. Vegeta knew that to be a fact. But there was something familiar in the comforting tones. Hardened, Vegeta rose to his feet to stare challengingly at the dragon.

"What choice? I will resurrect her. After all there seems to be wishes in need of squandering on such useless things as that."

"Of course."

Vegeta felt more chastened by his own words, than by the vague disapproval in the boy's reply. Treating Bulma so casually seemed like a betrayal. But that was how it would have to be. He was going to be ruler of galaxies. There wouldn't always be a wish granting dragon nearby. If his enemies knew of his attachment to Bulma they would use her and Bunny against him. He intended to resurrect her. He intended to keep her. If pushing her away was what he needed to do to keep her safe, then so be it.

"She'll never quite recover, you know. From the loss of her people, her failure. It will rot inside her, festering her soul until she dims and dies. You know something of that kind of failure don't you, Vegeta?"

"I will keep her safe."

"Safe, yes. And what will that safety cost you both? You presence will subside her pain for a while, but what about when you are not there? What about when you protect her from your enemies by turning your back on her? Perhaps it would be kinder to leave her dead."

Vegeta turned on the small boy, his teeth bared, his tail furled menacingly. Unaffected, the child shrugged, patting his slender belly. The eyes that beheld Vegeta's were not a child's eyes. They were older, darker, deeper.

"It would be more fulfilling for you. You wouldn't have to watch her wither before your eyes. You wouldn't have to pretend to care. You could still honor Bulma. Find her daughter and make her your princess. That way a part of Bulma would be nearby to comfort you. Besides there are other women for you to hold, to touch. They may not compare, or carry Bulma's heat, but they'll warm you for a night."

Vegeta squeezed his fists at his sides. Above him he could feel the shadows shift and gather. Darkness was calling to him. The sinister allure of 'having it all'. Wishes were dangerous things. After all, they gave you exactly what you asked for.

"The nights are dark," Vegeta muttered, glancing first at Lyedra's body then Bulma's.

"True. Bulma is your light. But as our myth tells, you can live in darkness. And in that darkness you will be the most feared. You're rule will be legendary."

Vegeta snarled in frustration, stalking away from the death. No matter where he went the shadow of the dragon cast itself over him. He stopped after a few feet, threw his head back, and roared to the darkened sky. Gold light sparked off his body, and died with pitiful, fizzling pops. Angry he turned on the child.

"What would have me do? Wish us back so we might relive the whole sorted thing over and over again. Return me back to that despicable day, and I'll be as I was. Powerless. Rotten. Alone."

Dende carefully seated himself on the gray boulder.

"Powerless? The dragon can grant two more wishes, and in every contract there is an addendum. Rotten? You will have your memories. After all, what makes us is nothing more than life experiences."

"Bulma will not!"

"Won't what?" Dende asked mildly.

"Remember." Vegeta stared at the green grass between his bare feet. Already he could smell the taint of decomposition in the air. He couldn't bear to look at her. By now all the blood would have finished draining, and her skin would have taken on a gray pallor.

"Ah. Alone. Yes, that is a crux, isn't it?"

Vegeta rumbled, but didn't reply. His tail swayed behind him listlessly.

"She won't remember your daughter, but the loss will still echo inside her."

Vegeta shot a look at the masquerading boy. Dende tilted his head to the side, his antennae twitching.

"You will remember. Can you live with that?"

Vegeta scowled at the ridiculous question. Of course he could live with that. He had only seen the child for a few minutes, and the entire time he was seething with betrayal. Her fierce blue eyes so like Bulma's. Her tiny little growls as she reacted with Saiyan instinct to protect her mother. Had betrayal been the only thing he felt when he looked at her? Her angelic face was burned into a part of his brain that would never be scoured.

Dende stared at the man for a long time. When Vegeta didn't reply, he sighed, one antenna drooping.

"Love isn't spontaneous. It isn't just chances, and maybe's, and he was there, and she was there. Love has to have a foundation to grow in. Everything else is just circumstantial."

Vegeta turned his head slowly to stare at the boy. His body strummed with tension. His muscles were strung so tight over his bones he felt like he was going to pop out of existence like the tiny flits of light that flickered off him from time to time.

"Love is nothing but a word. I have no idea what you are talking about, old man. None of this matters," Vegeta stated with finality as he turned to the dragon to make his wish.

"Soulless and loveless is no way to go through life, son."

"I have power. I will rule the universe."

"You will fulfill your father's destiny."

"My destiny!" Vegeta turned on the boy, his teeth bared. "This is my life. Not anyone else's." He thrust his thumb to his chest, his chin angled proudly.

The boy stat unaffected on the cool, gray rock.

"And you will have Bulma."

"Yes." Vegeta nodded stiffly in agreement.

"And Bulma will have Bunny."

Vegeta nodded again.

"And you will live happily ever after. You, the vicious, tyrant warlord. Her, the submissive, understanding queen always in need of protection. Bunny, the dainty, half-breed princess who will never be good enough to be your heir."

Vegeta stalked the boy, his tail snapping to and fro angrily. "It wouldn't be like that!" He grabbed Dende by his white robe, hauling him up to eye level.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but deep down you know the truth. Your duty to your father's memory would eventually quash Bulma's light, and you will be left in the darkness. Perhaps you will even erect a monument to her memory like the Second Brother did for the First."

Vegeta tossed the boy away, huffing in disgust. He caught a glance of Bulma from the corner of his eye, and it stopped dead in his tracks. She didn't even look like the woman she once was. The grayness of her skin was dulling the color of her hair. Even the bright red of her blood was darkening to sepia on the green grass.

Vegeta growled as he opened his mouth to speak. The words to resurrect Bulma, and retake his life were frozen in his throat.

"Speak the words in your heart," the boy whispered, sounding like the conscience he never had.

He formed the words to shut the old man up on his tongue, but something all together different spilled out.

"Turn back time, and return us to the day of Frieza's arrival on Earth." Appalled, Vegeta stumbled back. An invisible weight melted off his chest.

"And," Dende prompted.

"And allow me to retain all my power."

More weight lifted off Vegeta, and for the first time he felt like he could fly without the aid of his ki. He was as light as the wind, and just as free. Not just free from the guilt of ruining Bulma's life, but free from the dead expectation of his father.

"Those are two separate wishes. Do you wish this will to be done?"

There it was. The backdoor. He could still slip out. He could walk away. He could leave her to rot, and reclaim his birthright as ruler of the universe without her. If he continued down this path he would be nothing more than a lapdog to a memory that never happened. Once he made his wishes then he would never leave Bulma again, whether she choose to love him or not. What if she never loved him again? What if he ruined it? Was he merely condemning himself to another prison of his own making? Was he making a mistake?

"This is my will," Vegeta answered boldly.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.

Free My Soul

Chapter Twelve

"This is my will," Vegeta answered boldly.

The world flickered. It became red desert, and broken rock against a blue sky. It was green and rolling. It was red and bloody. It hummed with the satisfaction of a dragon. It vibrated with Nappa's laughter. Vegeta blinked, and the world stilled beneath his booted heals. He glanced down at his blue uniform, before looking ahead at the line of warriors squaring off.

A mountain moved next to him. Nappa was uncapping the vial of Saibaimen. Vegeta's hand shot out, stilling the subordinate. Nappa glanced at him in askance.

"No more. We will not be fighting the humans any longer."

"Huh?" Nappa's dumb confusion slid off his face, and echoed through the narrow valley.

Vegeta ignored him, and the stunned human warriors. He fisted his hand, staring at the strained white leather across his knuckles. He could feel the power strumming inside him, waiting to be released. He was Legendary. He had the power to crush Frieza with a thought. He could rule the universe as he was meant to. Everything he ever dreamed of was laid out before him.

"Prince Vegeta?"

Vegeta shot a look at Nappa. He expected to feel the typical disgust when he looked at his bodyguard, but the sick feeling of betrayal was gone. Nappa was supposed to have been his protector, and when his weakness had failed to keep Vegeta safe from Frieza's sadistic torture, he had blamed the man-blamed him for saving his life when he was thirteen, and bleeding out on the floor. Now, for the first time, Vegeta saw the situation with eyes untainted by anger. Nappa, dumb beast that he was, had done all he could for his Prince. He had been loyal to him, even has Vegeta had taken all of his suffering out on the older man. Vegeta's resentment had been nothing compared to his own guilt of not being Saiyan enough to care for his Prince as he would have liked.

Grim, Vegeta laid a firm hand on his bodyguard's shoulder. He felt the initial tensing of Nappa's muscles as he expected his prince to lash out at him.

"The humans are not our enemy, old friend. Frieza will be here shortly. It is him we must make ready for."

Nappa shifted to face his Prince. "How do you know this?"

"I know. I will kill him once and for all."

Vegeta watched as myriad of emotions crossed through the man's normally impassive eyes. Finally, after filtering between disbelief and concern, Nappa settled on fierce loyalty.

"Of course, My Prince. I will fight by your side to the death!" he roared.

Vegeta squeezed Nappa's shoulder, allowing a small smile to edge his lips.

"Not to our death, friend, to Frieza's. I have the power to defeat him now."

"Of course!"

Vegeta nearly laughed. Nappa clearly thought his Prince was delusional, but he would rather die than admit it. Vegeta couldn't believe the lightness he felt in his chest. The peace. In ten years he hadn't laughed. And now he was comforted in the shadow of a man that he had plotted to murder, just to alleviate his own disgust at himself for existing.

Vegeta turned to the Z fighters. He had made no attempt to hide his conversation with Nappa, and now they were staring at him with indecision.

"Earth has nothing to fear from us. We are now allies. Prepare yourself. An evil far greater than you could ever imagine is coming. Nappa, prep them on what they are about to face. I have something I must do." Vegeta clapped his friend's shoulder reassuringly, before launching into the air, leaving behind the stunned group.

Vegeta stretched out his senses. Bulma's energy was at the far-reaches of his mind, flickering with fear and curiosity. He adjusted his course, speeding towards her. Orange mountains melted into crystal blue water as he crossed the distance with blinding speed. A tiny gold dot appeared in the distance, growing into a tropical island with a single house at the center.

His booted heels sunk into the damp sand as he landed. The sunshine dancing off the blue water reminded him of Bulma's eyes. For the first time since he was a boy he felt nervous. A crowd appeared in the doorway of the house, pushing and shoving to get a good look at him. He straightened his shoulders, scowling at the ninnies gawking at him.

"I'm here to speak to Bulma."

His voice boomed across the sea. A gull squawked in a distance. There was a ripple among the throng of people. Someone shoved from behind. She emerged, looking young and fresh in a way that he had never seen her before. She was breathtakingly beautiful. All blue hair and pale unmarked skin. There were no bruises in her eyes, and he was rocked with the realization that he never met this Bulma. This Bulma, whose world had never been destroyed. She didn't know sorrow or regret. She knew nothing of pain or suffering. There was not a thing they had in common anymore. How could she possibly come to care for him again?

The woman in front of him was untouched by tragedy and bloodshed. She was innocent. Someone who would never look twice at him.

Tentatively, she made her way towards him, shaking off the old man who tried to stop her. She paused only a few feet from him. There was fear, but it was deeply buried beneath her ever-persistent curiosity.

"I am Vegeta."

"I know you from Babba's crystal ball, but how is that you know me?"

Vegeta shifted his weight. What could he say? _We met in a different life. I'm cold without you. I'm sorry I fucked up. I killed our child so you wouldn't have too._

"I took something from you. Something I can never return."

She cocked her head to the side. She had watched him stand in silence or laugh with maliciousness through the crystal ball for the last day, when suddenly just moments before he took off into the air, she felt something pop in her chest. She watched him with renewed fascination. The way he moved, how his muscles rippled. The way he spoke with his body while saying nothing at all.

"I am sure I am not missing anything."

She was barefoot, and the warm, wet sand seeped between her toes. The sun was beating down, and she had to shade her eyes to look at him. In the crystal ball his face was always shadowed with something more than just a trick of light. There was something heavy laying on him that wasn't visible to the naked eye, but now as she looked at him, the shadow was gone, and she noted with a pleasant tingle in her belly that his black eyes were lit with an inner fire.

"It would not be missed."

"Then are you sure it was taken?"

Bulma was struck at the oddness of their conversation. It was riddle wrapped in vague words, a puzzle she felt destined never to unravel.

"Yes, I took it, but I intend to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Bulma rocked back on her heels. The suddenness of feeling that she felt in her chest was intense. She was silenced by the monumental commitment laid at her feet by a mere stranger. Smart, witty Bulma knew that running away screaming was the right thing to do. Smart, witty Bulma was awed by the man in front of her.

"Something that won't even be missed surely doesn't deserve such a promise."

"I promised you happiness before, and I intend to keep it."

"I am positive I would remember such a promise coming from the lips of man such as yourself."

Bulma found herself taking a step closer. Drawn to him. There was something inside him. Golden, pulsing and beautiful.

"How positive are you that I don't know that strawberry parfait is your favorite dessert? Or that you recite prime numbers when you are nervous? Or that you thought about letting some dumb fuck boy get you pregnant at sixteen so you would never be alone again?"

Bulma's jaw dropped. Vegeta closed the gap, grasping her beneath the elbows so she wouldn't drop to the ground in shock. Over her shoulder he could see the witless human throng roil with fear.

"How do you know these things?" Her voice wavered. Standing so close, he blocked out the sun, and she could see the firm line of his jaw, his full lips and his clear black eyes staring straight into her.

"We knew each other once, in a different time and place. You don't know me now, but I still remember everything. I know all your secrets."

"Surely not everything."

He stared down at her, his thumb swiping gently over the curve of her arm where he held her. She watched intently as the corners of his full mouth turned down as if he was fighting a war inside himself. A war of what to say.

"Please." She rested her hands on his arms. Even through the lycra of his uniform she could feel how warm he was. "Tell me."

"I will tell you everything. Even the parts I don't want to. But right now I have to go."

"No!" She dug her nails into is arm, holding him prisoner. "Tell me the secret you think you know." Her eyes were spitting fire, and Vegeta knew that even though their experiences together were lost, this was still the same woman he had come to crave in every corner of his being. He leaned closer, watching as her eyes rounded, and her tiny, kittenish grip on his arms loosened.

"I know what your true heart's desire is."

She paled, and turned her face away so he could study her profile. "Of course. Everyone does. My fifteen year plan."

Her voice was dismissive, and he could feel the tension in her body. It made him angry. He pulled her up until she was on her toes, shaking her lightly. She shot a horrified look at him, and he was struck by the realization that she didn't know him well enough not to be afraid. A huge mountain of man lumbered out into the sun, followed by a skinny old fart who looked as if they would intervene. He ignored them, looking Bulma straight in the eye instead.

"That's your ambition dream. Your true heats desire is love. Real love. True, burn me up with passion, the other half of your soul, love. Love that remains strong even as you grow old. The kind of devotion you would sacrifice everything for, knowing in your heart you would do anything for them. To be assured that nothing could ever tear you apart, and they would never leave you. That it would absolutely kill you to be separated from them. The knowledge you will never be alone." He thought back to that day in their cell while she perched on his back, describing to him what love was, and as he recited it back to her, in his heart, he knew she was right. With her in his life, he would never be alone again.

Bulma's face became ashen as he spoke. She lost all strength in her limbs, and buckled to the ground. Vegeta followed, falling to his knees before her.

"Oh, my, God. How could you? How did you know that?" She rocked forward on her knees, taking quick, gasping breaths as she clutched her chest.

Vegeta leaned forward to wrap his arms around her, but she responded with viper quickness. She thrust her palms into the center of his chest, shoving him back.

"Don't touch me! I don't know you." She stumbled to her feet, backing awkwardly away. She looked panicked, then confused. "I don't know you, do I?"

Vegeta rose slowly to his feet, solemnity settling over his features. "No. You don't know me." He cast a glance to the crowd that had been edging closer to them. They looked worried and afraid, and one dark-haired woman looked like she was getting ready to commit murder. "A threat is closing in on this world. I won't allow Frieza to hurt you again. I will keep you safe, Bulma."

He turned to leave, and Bulma momentarily panicked at the sudden sense of loss. This she knew had happened before. She could feel the tingle of déjà vu down her spine. The fear, anger, and deep sense of abandonment that accompanied the feeling was nearly overwhelming. She leapt towards him, brushing her fingertips along his shoulder. He shivered, and lightning traveled up her arm. There was something so familiar to the set of his shoulders, and the line of his back.

"I'll be back." He glanced over his shoulder at her. The heat in his gaze was poorly veiled by his thick, dark lashes. "Perhaps someday you will dance to Swan Lake for me again."

Startled Bulma dropped her hand, afraid to touch the not-stranger in front of her. She tried not to be sad when she saw the shadow flicker across his eyes before he turned away. He took a few steps away, and the flowing water splashed around his ankles. He fisted his hands at his sides, the line of his shoulders tensing, and she knew he was going to leave.

"Vegeta!" she called out with a suddenness that even startled her. He paused, but didn't look back. "What's your true heart desire?"

The question though awkward felt right. It was as if she had been waiting a life time to hear his answer.

He turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. His face was shadowed, but she could see light in his eyes.

"You, Bulma. It's always been you."

She sank to the ground, watching as he disappeared in the sky, the sand fluffing between her fingers, and the surf licking her toes. She didn't know what was going on, or who he was, but somewhere deep down was the surety that meeting him was going to change her life forever.

THE END

A/N: I can practically hear the cacophony of 'what the fucks' webbing their way to my e-mail as I post this. I am giving serious thought to a third and final installment of this story. The alluring idea of writing a story of a courting Prince Vegeta, and a frightfully confused Bulma, is nearly over-whelming. I mean really—How could that possible go wrong….0.o Throw in boyfriend Yamcha pawing at already 'claimed' Bulma. Omg let the shenanigans begin.

Before considering that, however, I will to be working on completing Fixation. So keep an eye out for updates there. Also, next Thursday if you so desire you can check out a B/V sexy one-shot _Scandalous_ that I will be posting on media miner only, under my pen name Temptingtemptation.


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